Bird Cage
by Lorelai Lui
Summary: AU. OrihimexUlquiorra. Orihime is approached by a mysterious stranger that offers her the adventure and freedom she's always wished for, but there's a price: her hand in marriage.
1. Chapter 1: Ties of Fate

Bird Cage

Summary: AU. Orihime is the fabled weaving princess of legends and a goddess of the heavens. Dissatisfied of her mundane life as a kept woman unable to explore the world beyond her cage, she yearns for adventure and discovery. An opportunity presents itself in a handsome and enigmatic stranger, who offers her the adventure she desires but for a price: her hand in marriage.

….

Chapter 1: Ties of fate.

Orihime sat by the bank of the Amanogawa, slowly weaving a beautiful silk gown. It was a sweet blushing colour with cherry blossom embroidery appearing at the sleeves, a matching set of slippers slowly in the works nearby her pearlescent feet. Around her, nature sung with perfection - the river dancing with stars and the trees and grass lush with vigour. This was the way things were in her goddess domain.

She sighed forlornly, continuing her laborious work on the fabric. Orihime had spent almost a millennia weaving beautiful apparel for her brother, Sora, and it was starting to become quite tedious. Being naturally curious, she longed for adventure away from her realm and into the celestial cosmos of her kin, the other gods and goddesses that assisted in the function of the universe.

The weaving princess wished to see Earth and the people who worshipped her tale every year during the Tanabata festival, or the 'Qixi Festival'. Her myth told of both her and a cowherd named Hikoboshi. They were star-crossed lovers that were separated by the Amanogawa, also known as the Milky Way. Lost and lonely, the princess cried so hard that a flock of magpies took pity on her, and every year the magpies would form a bridge out of their bodies so that the lovers could meet across the river.

Her story was famous in the hearts of the people, although guilt plagued her heart at the slight inaccuracy of her legend. Yes, she was once betrothed to the cowherd across the river, but they were far from lovers.

She had not called him Hikoboshi since their first encounter. To her and those familiar with him, his name was Ichigo. Once she had pined for him like she had for no other, but the centuries changed, and even gods and goddesses bound by fate move on. Her love for him was unrequited and he was friendly and fond of her, yet rather impartial romantically. He had loved someone else and was blind to all others, and despite Orihime's feelings; she knew that she needed more than that.

Still she continued to sit at the river bank, as she did when time itself began, still weaving her beautiful clothes as fate had destined her. Regardless of her curiosity and whims, she was still a woman and had her own duties to carry out. She could not explore outside her realm without her brother to escort her, as it was not appropriate. Women were to be pleasant, quiet and offer good conversation. They were not workers of the fields or particularly excelled in hard labour, their talents more so in dance, singing and art. Sadly, this trapped them in a cage of convenience and comfort while men had freedom to explore.

Orihime crawled closer to the river bank, leaning over to swipe her hand delicately across the surface. The stars of the Milky Way seemed to ripple and stabilise as her touch lingered into the depths. She viewed her reflection critically, watching strands of her orange locks dance with the wind. Orihime could not properly see the colour of her eyes, but she had noted the distress in her expression. Even though she felt so incredibly calm and accepting of her situation within, her expression betrayed her leaking unhappiness.

Frustrated, she swung her hand across the water in rage. Her face distorted into violent ripples before stabilising. Still, her expression remained pained and unhappy. Orihime cried out in frustration, a tear seeping down her cheek. "I don't want this to be my life!" She wailed, "I want my freedom! I want to see humans and other realms! I need more than this dreary life!"

"Then leave," A deep, melodic voice spoke matter-of-factly.

"I can't! Sora would never let me!" Her tantrum raged on as she continued to thrash, ripping out grass and banging her fists on the turf.

"How tiresome," The voice commented without sympathy.

Orihime continued to whine for a couple more minutes before clearing her tears. She peered down into the water and instead of her own reflection, found another face looking up at her. Yelping, she jumped back in surprise. Deciding bravely to confront the strange phenomenon, she reached down and hesitantly tried to brush away the illusion. Instead, the face stubbornly stayed, watching her with a detached expression.

"Who are you? Am I going crazy?" She questioned urgently, rubbing her eyes roughly. After realising that her apparition was not part of her imagination, Orihime decided to study the face thoroughly.

The princess realised that she hadn't seen many men – only her brother and Ichigo.

She could not stare at this stranger for too long as it made her feel indecent. From what she had gathered from her brief observation, he was rather handsome. He had slightly wavy black hair that swayed down his neck in long, thick locks. This contrasted against moonlight toned skin, more pale and silky than that of a girl.

This articulated that he was wealthy, subjected to more education indoors than manual labour outside. His eyes were a sharp emerald green that shone like jewels, bordered by thick, downcast eyelashes. The man's nose was straight and noble and his jaw angular and strong.

Orihime crinkled her nose, considering his features. His face was full of contractions. His beautiful eyes, full cheeks and unruly hair made him look young and boyish yet his facial structure was that of a man. Regardless of his appeal, there was something in his features that spiked fear in her. There was something concealed within the depths of his eyes that made her sink away from him.

"My summoning was not for simple introductions but of a proposition," He explained coldly, "You wish to leave this realm for another and I can grant you that."

"What do you want in return? I can give nothing but woven clothes..." She bit her lip nervously.

"This is where you're wrong, woman. I want your hand in marriage," He specified, continuing to watch her with his eerie, cat-like gaze.

Orihime's cheeks and ears coloured with mortification. "I-I don't even know you!"

He raised his eyebrow and she composed herself, considering her manners. "I would need a few more sittings so that I may further get to know you and you must meet my brother for his acceptance before I can marry you," She stammered and averted her gaze to her hands. Despite her attraction to this stranger, she did not feel inclined to marry him.

"I will see you three more times in your realm. This is all the time I can give you before you make your decision. I cannot seek acceptance from your brother and neither can you. If you accept my proposal, you will leave and marry me in secret," He ordered. There was a slight hint of irritation in his tone that informed Orihime that the conversation had run its course.

"I understand. When will you see me next?"

"Tomorrow - when you arrive I will be waiting at this bank in person."

….

The weaving princess watched idly outside as she waited for her brother's chariot to fly through the night sky. The moon glowed more beautifully than ever and she couldn't help but wonder about her mysterious stranger. He was indeed handsome -in a peculiar kind of way- and she did admit that she was rather attracted to him. Regardless, was it safe to marry someone she did not know?

Instead of the fresh and gentle sleeve she was working on during the day, she had started on a new project, a midnight coloured yukata. Her previous work lay neglected on a nearby bench, her inspiration gone for the moment being. The princesses' thoughts were drawn away from the brightness of the day and cherry blossoms in particular.

Orihime's eye caught the familiar lights and sounds of her brother's chariot soring closer to the house. She rose quickly, making her way to the door to meet him.

Her home was a traditional styled house with polished wooden floors and paper screen doors. It was quite large, displaying her prosperity as a goddess. The only problem was it was so long winding and often rather lonely.

She had no companions other than figured servants. Figured servants looked like everyday humans but they were merely vessels without souls. They were just simple dolls gifted through worship by humans. As such, they did not really have much of a personality.

The princess waited silently at the door until a familiar figure burst in. "Orihime!" He greeted fondly. He wrapped his arms around her with unbridled brotherly affection and kissed her.

"Sora!" She sighed warmly, sinking into his comforting chest. Her brother had been her only companion through the lonely centuries and they had grown quite attached to each other.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you! How is that beautiful kimono coming along?" Sora broke their embrace and held her hand gently. She guided him to the dining room so that he could finally sit down and relax after his long journey.

From what Orihime had gathered over the years, Sora was an important government official of the Heavenly courts. He was often absent and very weary from his duties. He had never clarified what he actually did, but Orihime assumed that it was essential to the general order of things.

"I'm still working on it as well as some other little projects as well. I really missed you while you were gone! How were the heavenly courts?" Orihime lowered herself onto the mat, pouring her brother some sake diligently.

Her brother's face winced, as if in pain. A shadow cast over his brow and he lifted the sake to his lips. "Not good," He answered solemnly. "Hell may be uprising against the heavens from the way things are going in the human world."

Orihime frowned, "Why would hell uprise against the heavens, Sora?"

"Well," Sora paused, taking another sip of sake while he organised his thoughts. "As you know, most of us deities retain power solely from offerings and worship. If humans don't make offerings to us, we eventually become forgotten and fade away or get corrupted. That's why some of us cause tragedies that befall on humans like disease, drought and floods. Some of us believe that fear is the only way to get them to continue to worship, without getting lazy and forgetting us. There have been a lot of disasters this year in particular..."

"But what does that have to do with hell?" Orihime questioned gravely.

"The demons of hell don't retain power from worship, nor does Enma. When the gods inflict pain on the living and the gates of hell are flooded with souls, it puts strain on the spirit realm and compromises the reincarnation process. It also means more hungry ghosts need to be purified and there is a lot more work." Sora pursed his lips. "Enma plans to wage war against the heavens if we continue meddling in the human world. I don't understand why he's complaining. It has been his job since before we came into being. I have a feeling his plans have already been set in motion."

Despite the severity of the new information fed to her, her thoughts were elsewhere. "Sora, you said that it could compromise the reincarnation process. Does that mean that some of the humans won't get the next lives that they worked hard for?" Orihime pursed her lips, staring down into Sora's cup of sake sadly.

"Orihime, they're just humans. You can't feel sorry for something that lives for a mere half a hundred years and has the memory of a fish. They're livestock, Orihime," Sora reasoned, downing his cup as the figure servants placed dish after dish down for their pleasure.

Seeing the lives of humans from her perch in the heavens, Orihime refused to believe they were livestock. They were born in her image and however imperfect they were, fate didn't hold such a tight clutch on them as it did the gods. Orihime was destined to be separated from her so called 'lover' except from a small visit each day of the year and to always be protected in her domain, weaving clothes. She would always be with her brother and would know nothing else for the rest of eternity. It was a lonely, dreary existence, and with no end in sight. Humans had a clean slate to work with each life they were born and could do anything they wished.

Orihime sighed, eating her food idly, but mostly stirring it around with her chopsticks. She felt her brother brush her cheek lovingly and returned his love with a gentle smile. She felt guilty that she didn't appreciate being by his side for all eternity, but she needed more than that. Something crucial was missing inside her, like a gaping hole she needed to fill.

No matter what was at stake, she needed to feel complete. Her stranger had given her a rare opportunity to have a human's clean slate and she needed this. She needed a change. The princess was not naïve. She knew that there was a possibility that she would never love him, but she was attracted to him and she definitely would try.

"Your face just now," Sora began, "It changed from a sad expression to such happiness. I haven't seen you this pleased since you were first betrothed to Ichigo."

Orihime blushed to her ears, waving her hands about wildly. "I just came up with an idea of a kimono is all and it brought back some memories!"

Sora laughed heartily and touched her face lovingly once more. "It makes me so happy so see you this way, yet it hurts me to think that you could have left me forever," His face turned sombre, and Orihime frowned empathetically. "I'm sorry for breaking the two of you apart, but I just couldn't be without you..."

She couldn't promise to never leave him, because it was in her heart's desire to leave this place, and Sora was the main thing hindering her independence. His actions were out of love, yet his love had left chains of oppression around her for centuries. Sora never meant wrong, his actions were out of pure, honest affection and socially expected of him, and for that she could never blame him.

"No matter what happens, I'll always love you," She promised, wrapping her arms around him in a long embrace. His hold on her was tight and possessive and she felt that there was more to this gesture than she could understand.

A lone tear escaped and she brushed it away quickly before he could see.

….

After dinner, she began working on yet another kimono: her bridal kimono. She wanted it to be absolutely perfect, despite the fact that she was stressed for time. She assumed that her stranger's three visits would be carried out over the next three days, the third being when he would finally spirit her away.

Orihime blushed with the thought of her kimono's design. It would be white with the layers beneath a flirtatious red. She considered embroiling peaches for fertility on the kimono, as well as other symbols of prosperity, fruitfulness and virginity.

A common misconception about her tale was that her marriage had been consummated, but since the courting was never completed, she had remained a maiden. Orihime pursed her lips, fretting over whether to assure him that she was indeed pure for him. Should her gown heavily suggest her purity so that he would understand her meaning, or should she tell him in a less subtle manner? Should she wait for him to discover her chastity during their wedding night?

Her skin prickled at the thought of her wedding night and her nipples began to pucker. She was no stranger to eroticism yet the thought of the act made her feel coy. Orihime had never done anything remotely intimate with Ichigo. He was a man of honour and values, and would not do anything to sully her when they were only betrothed, not married.

She wondered if her stranger would kiss her if she asked, so she could at least understand the feeling and sensation of what was to follow before the night of her wedding. The princess wondered if it would be gentle and chaste or if he would be rough and feral with desire like she had seen from various artworks. Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she felt warmth pool between her legs.

Closing her eyes, she imagined his body atop her, shining with a thin layer of sweat. She noted the intensity of his eyes as he watched her below him, writhing with excitement. Orihime wondered if he would hold her afterwards, or if he would continue like a stallion the entire night.

Shaking her head, she pushed her thoughts of desire to the back of her brain. If she were to accept his proposal, she would barely see Sora anymore, and it would break his heart. She'd be going behind his back and diving into uncharted waters. Her decision could not only destroy her, but it would destroy him too.

Orihime wondered if her stranger actually would the amazing lover she had imagined. When they had met, he seemed cold and disinterested, not at all like the passionate figure in her fantasy. He could cage her in his domain, just like Sora had, yet instead of doing it as an act of love; her stranger could just be naturally cruel.

She also knew next to nothing about this man. Would he have other wives in the future? Was she just another wife? Would he be inclined to have concubines as well as wives?

Her mind raced with anxiety and she began to panic. There were many things she needed to clear up with him the next time she met and she was glad that he at least gave her time to be courted. Still, she sewed, weaved and embroidered away at her bridal kimono as if by reflex, her hands and heart already eager from the freedom his offer would gift her.

….

Orihime woke and allowed the figure servants to bathe her, their unnaturally soft hands washing her body and hair with the utmost efficiency. She noted their blank, undistinguishable faces and felt a little uncomfortable being naked and vulnerable in front of them. All they knew was mindless obedience and they had no sense of loyalty. That was very dangerous for the people who relied on them.

She rose from the tub and pointed to her wardrobe. "Could you please dress me in the light blue-green kimono today?" She asked, watching them scurry away and unwrap the delicate folds and layers of her dress.

It was her favourite kimono, the layers gentle and calming. The sleeves and top layer were a gentle sea blue with decorative koi fish twisting gaily throughout the pattern. Underneath were various layers of a blend of light blue and a refreshing green. Her obi sash was a light shimmering grey with a subtle pattern of white chrysanthemums.

Orihime considered the bad omen of wearing something with white chrysanthemums, a flower of mourning, to her rendezvous with her stranger, but she decided to just simply counter the omen by wearing a good luck charm instead of changing. This was her favourite dress and she felt most confident in it.

Regardless, Orihime was too excitable today to fall for such simple superstitions. The princess was especially energetic and perky as she would soon meet with her stranger. Her late night imaginings had fuelled her curiosity for her suitor and she was very anxious to see him. She was also quite lonely lately and getting to know a new person was thrilling and exciting for her. After all, she'd only known enough people in her life to be counted on her hands.

As the figures dressed her, she regarded herself in the mirror. Orihime wanted to attract him, to elicit some sort of response other than the indifference she had received during their meeting. She decidedly left her hair to cascade down her back so that he might perchance catch scent of the soaps that the servants had lathered through her hair.

Feeling naked, the princess picked out a beautiful decorative mahogany comb to hold her hair out of her face.

Now that she had chosen her arrangement, she let the servants give her hair a long comb, the only thing they did that she liked. She loved feeling the comb massage down her scalp and it often made her lips smile in pleasure. Orihime let her suspicion of the figures slip through her mind as she enjoyed their grooming.

Her hair was her pride and joy. Most goddesses had midnight blue-black locks yet hers were a soft, playful orange. Sora loved her hair the most and when he wasn't taken away from her on business he would spend his time brushing and massaging her scalp, just as the servants did.

The thought of Sora pricked her heart and she remembered hearing him quietly check on her that morning before he left for his business. He had laid a gentle kiss on her lips before silently sneaking out into the morning fog.

When her servants finished pampering her, she ordered them to pack a small table, some grilled fish, rice and sake, with some cups to boot. Orihime wondered if the stranger's journey was particularly perilous when he arrived to the riverbank. Was it easy and short or was it dangerous and time consuming?

...

Rushing to her usual spot, she noticed her stranger standing idly facing the river. He wore a simple black yukata that made his skin look even lighter. "Good morning!" She welcomed, quickening her step over the thick grass.

He turned around to face her; his eyebrow rising and his lips twitching in what she gathered was a smirk. It seemed as if he had noticed a private joke that she wasn't a part of. His eyes locked with hers and her face lit up at his recognition. Grinning stupidly, her thoughts completely away from her own actions, she forgot her footing and immediately lost her balance.

Orihime tripped and landed into his strong chest. She instantly became aware of his scent and blushed profusely to the tips of her ears. "I-I brought you food and sake," She mumbled, stepping away from him coyly and setting up the small makeshift table.

"I don't know how long it takes you to journey into my realm so I brought all this in case you were hungry. I thought we could also talk about some things while you relaxed by the river..." She rambled, averting her eyes.

He sat by her side and silently watched her prepare the grilled fish and rice on the table. She was painfully aware of his gaze but still continued to quietly avert eye contact so that she would not falter on her duties at hand, as she had with walking. Orihime was easily lost in thought and very clumsy if she didn't concentrate persistently.

"What would you like to know?" He asked quietly, his voice deep and velvety. He rose the cup of sake idly while he stared off across the river. He seemed a lot more lax than he had during their first meeting and she took full advantage of that.

"What is your name?" She asked inquisitively, glancing up at his angular jaw bone every once in a while. It was still a feat for her to look directly at his face. Orihime wanted to impress and soften him. She couldn't do that if she was idiotically brain-dead because she was drawn to his features.

Still, she was swayed. In avoiding his face she had focused on his hands. His fingers were long, slim and straight, with perfectly shaped, clean nails on each finger that curved beautifully. They didn't seem calloused from hard labour and were more refined, like that of a scholar. The more she gazed at his hands, the more she longed to be touched by him.

"I think Ulquiorra would suffice," He answered, interrupting her thoughts.

She scrunched her nose, confused. Orihime had never heard of any god called Ulquiorra. Then again, it didn't sound quite Asian and she was only really affiliated with other Asian gods.

The princess regarded his expression oddly, wondering if he was toying with her. Then again, many gods had different names depending on the different societies that worshipped them. She herself also went by the name of Zhinu in China yet Orihime in Japan.

He raised a brow at her scrutiny and she decided to leave it and continue on. He had begun eating and that left her with time for thought without listless awkward silences. "If I were to marry you, would you have other wives or concubines?"

"Not interested." He commented, breaking off another piece of fish with his chopsticks.

"Really?" She probed, surprised yet rather pleased with his answer.

"Really."

"What if I were a terrible wife? What if I couldn't have children? What if another beauty caught your eye?" Orihime interrogated excitedly, scooting closer towards him so that their thighs touched.

He stopped eating and quirked his brow, frowning. "You brought food, concerned about whether I was hungry. We are not even married yet and you have no obligations to do anything for me and yet you did. I highly doubt you'd be a terrible wife from that example alone."

Turning to face her with the same barren expression that came naturally to his features, Orihime could still read an oddly morbid sense of amusement. "If gods could have children the heavens would be so unpleasantly crowded you would probably start having to eat your own young."

"I don't care for other women either," Ulquiorra added; the thought so insignificant and impractical to even think about that he did not feel the need to reassure her insecurities. Instead, he gazed across the river. There was intensity in his stare as if he were looking for something.

"The man on the other side," He ushered slowly, smoothly with his chin. "Are you tied to him?"

"We were betrothed... but unlike my story, we didn't love each other. Sora split us apart and instead of still loving each other and pining for each other from across the river we went our separate ways," Orihime explained sadly, breaking a wayward leaf in two idly.

"Have you ever been in love, Ulquiorra?" She asked shakily. The question made her feel vulnerable.

There was a tinge of gentleness in Ulquiorra's eyes as he regarded her. She noticed that all his expressions were very similar, the natural neutrality of his countenance dulling the appearance of any sensation or feeling that leaked through his expression. He noticed her probing and broke contact, walking towards the river to peer down into the depths.

"Do you know what this river is?" He asked. His change of subject threw her off and caused her vulnerability to dissipate.

"The Amanoga-"

"No. I mean do you know what it is?" He looked at her over his shoulder as she rose, joining him at his side.

"This is a portal," He explained, crouching down and dipping his fingers in, "to the human world."

She gasped, bringing her hands to her chest. All along it had been right in front of her and she'd never even thought to check.

"In every deity's realm there is a way to seep through. It's usually through water. You see, people used to sacrifice human brides to the gods. Do you know how they did it?" He explained, continuing to wave his hands through the water absentmindedly.

"Sending them out to sea…" Orihime realised with a slight feeling of horror. Her stomach rolled with disgust and pain for the poor women who were given so brutally.

"Or burnt alive," He stated abruptly. "It's a shame humans cook instead of burning like paper. It would actually mean they found their way to the heavens instead of becoming a glorified barbeque. What a waste." Ulquiorra swiped at the water once more before standing.

"They shouldn't have to be sent out to sea or be burnt alive," Orihime whimpered, clenching her fists. "They don't live very long – they should be left to enjoy themselves while they can. They shouldn't have to live in fear and disaster so that we get to live a little more comfortably!"

"Do you want to see them?" Ulquiorra murmured, observing her with his inquisitive green eyes. They shone with curiously, as if really seeing her for the first time.

"What do you mean, Ulquiorra?"

"I promised you that I would take you away from this realm and... I want to show you a glimpse of that. Do you want to go there?" He held his hand out to her and she gripped it tightly.

In an instant, he yanked her into the depths of the river. Orihime tried to scream but her lungs filled up with the surrounding liquid of the cosmos. She shut her mouth abruptly and instead decided to observe her surroundings. Around her, the stars and planets glowed, lighting up the Milky Way with beauty and wonder. Cautious optimism replaced her initial fear and she let Ulquiorra lead her through the river, letting the stunning memory of this phenomenal scene become imprinted in her brain.

For the first time in her life, Orihime felt the adrenaline of discovery. The galaxy was abundant with activity. Planets made their journey around their suns, asteroids flew throughout space and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like a big fish in a little pond.

As they travelled deeper within the lake, the stars receded and a gaping darkness began to swallow them. Ulquiorra seemed to register her panic and gave her hand a squeeze as he slowly died away in her vision. She could not even see her hand in front of her face, let alone his, but she could feel the tightness of his grasp and that gave her enough comfort to continue on.

Deeper they descended into the darkness, her fear creeping up her spine until her skin prickled completely with goose bumps. It felt like an eternity, being dragged deeper and deeper into the dark. All she had for comfort was Ulquiorra's hand clutched tightly around hers. Orihime wanted to ask him how much longer it would take but she was afraid that opening her mouth would be the death of her. As a deity, she didn't need to breathe air, but something in the back of her mind warned her that it probably wasn't a good idea to swallow too much water of the cosmos. She wasn't sure how gods died and it was something she wanted to find out through experience.

After a while, the pressure and tension of the water seemed to lighten and she thought she could hear a gentle noise in the distance. It sounded like a long deep sigh mixed with the whispers of many voices. Orihime focused harder and as they descended deeper still, she noticed that they were perfectly coherent – they were prayers. She was getting closer to the human world.

A bright piercing light split the darkness and blinded her completely. The world seemed to turn upside down and instead of the watery universe, she felt as if she was suspended in mid-air. She opened her eyes and screamed as she noticed that they were no longer in the pool of the cosmos but falling to the ground fast. Ulquiorra yanked her arm urgently, pulling her into his chest and holding her tightly to shield her from the blow.

She hugged him, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face into his neck. Tears pricked her eyes and instead of falling down her face, evacuated from the sides. When she looked at Ulquiorra's face she was met with the same signature apathy and disinterest, which strangely calmed her nerves.

Ulquiorra wasn't afraid and she wouldn't let herself be either.

They landed with an 'oomph' on a soft cushion of grass. Orihime shook her head and scrunched her nose, before shaking Ulquiorra roughly. "Ulquiorra!" She shrieked, slapping his face lightly so that he would open his eyes.

He grabbed her wrists in a flash and held them firmly. "I'm a god, not a human, you silly woman. I don't feel pain and I certainly don't die that easily."

He settled her nerves by sitting up and sweeping his gaze about their surroundings. While she sat, dumbfounded, he rose, straightening his yukata and continuing to search the area. Orihime sighed with relief and did the same.

The human world wasn't that different from her domain. The sun was setting and evening was upon them, a beautiful stretch of purples and blues painted across the dimming sky. Around them insects hummed gaily, undisturbed by their abrupt arrival.

A bright blue-grey orb appeared before her in the distance, disappearing as abruptly as it had appeared. She noticed a few more glowing within the forests and she stepped forward, peering to see if she could get a better look.

"Ulquiorra, what are those lights in the distance?" She asked, pointing towards the objects in question.

"They're will-o-wisps. They are weak spirits floating around, trying to find the gates of hell," Ulquiorra informed distractedly as he began to walk away. "Follow me, not them."

Orihime obeyed, grasping the end of his yukata sleeve absentmindedly as she continued to look with wonder at the beautiful bright blue glowing lights. "They're like fireflies" She murmured, watching them drift through the crisp darkening sky.

They walked for a while in silence, Ulquiorra seemingly looking for something while Orihime continued to stare in wonder at the surrounding objects and noises of nature. Eventually the pair set their feet on a dirt road, and finally the noises of nature were replaced by the quiet hum of human voices. They passed a small pond and a big orange koi fish jumped to greet the godly figures excitedly. Orihime exclaimed in pleasure at the spectacle and clapped her hands.

"Do you see those decorations?" Ulquiorra pointed in the distance. Orihime looked eagerly, spotting beautiful coloured lanterns and adornments. As they were getting closer to the congregation of noise, the groups of humans grew denser, walking in lovely yukata and laughing and socialising amongst each other with joy.

The two of them received a lot of attention from the humans, as Orihime was rather overdressed in her elaborate kimono and Ulquiorra, despite only wearing a plain black yukata, was still unnaturally handsome in comparison to the human men.

They received many stares from the crowds of people and often she saw both men and women respectively talk behind their hands with both curiosity and amazement.

It made her uncomfortable to be looked at so often, yet when she noticed the envy and admiration from the humans she felt as if she had more vigour than ever before. Feeling confident, she slipped her hand within Ulquiorra's and they continued exploring the festival. They would put their godhood aside and be two beautiful humans enjoying a festival together.

"What are they celebrating?" Orihime wondered, looking around for some inclination.

"Tanabata." Ulquiorra quirked his brow once more as he scrutinized her oblivious expression. "This is your festival, woman," He stated blankly.

Orihime's smile widened and tears began to form in her eyes. These people were celebrating her day. Never mind the fact that it was more so her part in the lover's story, they were celebrating her legacy.

Pausing, she noticed a tree with paper for leaves. Giving Ulquiorra a yank, the two made their way closer to the tree. On closer inspection, she noticed that the tree was covered with wishes from all the humans. She turned a paper leaf carefully, reading the prayer written in a delicate, soft hand.

"This is one of the prayers I heard when we were getting closer to the human world..." She murmured with wonder, picking out another one and reading it excitedly.

Ulquiorra regarded her silently as she continued to read through all her wishes. They were mostly involved with love, which didn't surprise her seeing as the main theme of her legend was star-crossed lovers.

Orihime pursed her lips. It wasn't very fair on her suitor to be exposed to a day celebrating her relationship with one of her past "lovers," but he still guided her to the human world for this festival because he knew it must have meant at least something to her. The princess had already learned that there was not much that bothered Ulquiorra, but he didn't particularly enjoy many things either. For today, she wished that he could feel at least something.

Bouncing excitedly to the complimentary paper and brush, she began to write her wish. Ulquiorra looked at her questioningly as she hid her paper playfully from him and hung it on the tree. "Let's see what else they have here," She murmured in his ear, giving him her biggest smile.

The couple winded through the streets, browsing through all the different stalls. Ulquiorra mostly kept to himself, following silently behind Orihime as she enjoyed herself. He was for the most part impartial to the bright colours and decorations, but he didn't complain or show any signs of irritation or discomfort.

Eventually, Orihime grew tired, her feet not used to walking such long distances and her body not accustomed to the exercise. Her cheeks flushed with a healthy glow from all the walking, and cheeks pained from smiling for too long and too often.

She had explored every inch of the festival and had invaded every stall. It took a while to understand the human's dialect and speech but she eventually adapted and had felt quite satisfied in her search for understanding.

"I think I'm ready to sit down now." She grinned, breathless.

Ulquiorra nodded and they detangled themselves from the massive hoards of humans. Retracing their steps, they found their way back to the koi pond. The sounds of the festival were once again a distant murmur and they were finally alone together.

The koi fish that had greeted them previously before lingered around the surface in case the couple felt generous enough to offer food. Taking the bait, Orihime threw a few crumbs in the water.

"There is something I don't understand," She murmured quietly as they sat side by side, watching the fish devour her gift. "How did you find me? How did you know I even existed up there? Why do you want to marry me?" She pushed her hair away from her eyes and leaned down to peek at him.

"When you first manifested, Tentei introduced you to the heavenly courts. I watched as you made your introduction..." His eyes were downcast as he clarified his acquaintance with her. Regardless, Orihime ignored his reluctant mood.

Orihime clasped his hand with both of hers and blushed, remembering standing in front of all the gods and goddesses. She had been a speck, a wallflower in comparison to all the other beauties with her only distinguishable feature her hair. Still, Ulquiorra had noticed her. As he continued, his expression became more guarded. "It eventually became a matter of necessity to retrieve you, and so I approached you on the river bed and offered you my proposition."

Ulquiorra turned away from her and stared out into the night sky. Her instincts told her he was not in the mood for her to continue prying, so instead she just silently enjoyed the view with him. The blue orbs shone more brightly now, clinging together in a large congregation across the sky. The lanterns bobbed lazily through the air, making Orihime sleepy.

"They found the gate," Ulquiorra murmured, gazing up at the lights.

In her contented daze, she considered her time with Ulquiorra. She was flattered and charmed by his chivalry and thoughtfulness in taking her to the human world during her time of worship, but she still felt this itching feeling of apprehension. Despite her growing comfort towards him, there was always a more animalistic part of her that sensed some sort of danger. It told her to run and never look back. His strange choice of words in regards to beginning his courtship seemed flattering on the surface but there seemed to be something else more sinister in the mix.

Orihime shivered involuntarily. Ulquiorra seemed to sense her brief discomfort and moved close enough to her so that their shoulders and legs were touching. Orihime reddened, the contact making her heart race. The biting feeling of apprehension resided and she stared back at the sky in contentment.

…

Please review and tell me of any mistakes you see within the writing! Thank you for reading.

9th October, 2015 – Edit: I'm just going through and doing a couple of little edits. I will update very soon everyone!

-Lorelai.


	2. Chapter 2: Breaking the Bars

Hello everyone! This chapter was really hard to write. In fact, I scrapped my first draft completely (it took a whole day) and despite that, I still had to make drastic changes to my second draft when I began editing.

I have a couple of things to bring up, the main thing being that this story is **loosely** inspired by a few Chinese and Japanese myths and may reference a few other popular myths and legends from other cultures. Things definitely won't happen like they do in the actual myths; however there may be small correlations between the characters and events.

Because this is solely my own, you need to tell me if there is anything I haven't made quite clear or you don't understand. One of the biggest mistakes of anyone who writes supernatural or fantasy novels is they don't fill the readers in on the world they created. I want to become a better writer, and your feedback will really help me out.

….

Chapter 2: Breaking the Bars.

Orihime tossed and turned violently in her sleep. A thin layer of sweat coated her skin and caused her linen sleepwear to cling uncomfortably to her body. She moaned and shivered with distress.

Her dream initially began on a positive note. She was with Ulquiorra and he stood close by with a torch. They were in some sort of tunnel, or possibly a cave. The scenery was vivid and she found that it could not hold her attention for long, often blurring and distorting when she tried to focus. Instead, she watched the scene play out from a distance between her dream-self and Ulquiorra.

Her suitor spoke in hushed tones that she did not quite understand, but her dream-self responded gaily to his words. Orihime watched as her doppelganger bounced eagerly towards Ulquiorra with her arms outstretched. Surprisingly, Ulquiorra responded to her embrace and the couple held each other passionately.

It was intriguing as her stranger wasn't one for affection. His countenance was still impartial and he didn't smile or show any real expression towards her double, but his gaze was softer and he didn't seem as indifferent towards her as his real counterpart. He was gentle and his natural intensity had ceased, yet he was still the same sombre man that she knew from reality. Orihime's heart constricted longingly as she realized that her dream had depicted what she assumed was his peculiar way of expressing love.

As they continued to hold each other, a loud screeching invaded her ears. Her skin pricked and her heart thumped wildly as she felt a strange shift in the dream overcome her. Darkness had seeped into her vivid imaginings. The screeching became louder and louder as a black cloud revealed itself within the flickering light of the torch that her dream suitor held. At closer inspection, Orihime recognised the flapping wings and rodent-like faces of bats.

The swarm of bats engulfed the lovers in a flash and began tearing apart their flesh. She watched in horror as the lovers continued their affair without concern as they were ripped to shreds. Orihime shrieked and tried to turn away from the revolting scene, but her dream paralysed her and she remained rooted in place.

"_It eventually became a matter of necessity to retrieve you, and so I approached you on the river bed and offered you my proposition..."_

Ulquiorra's words echoed through her ears over the screeching of the bats until the couple in front of her had been completely stripped to the bone. Once there was not a single strip of flesh left to devour, the winged creatures departed overhead and the bones slowly disintegrated to ash in front of her.

Orihime woke in a flash. The princess drew a shaky breath and pressed her hand over her chest. Her pulse was racing beneath her touch. Her feverish sweat caused her hair to plaster to her face and neck, which heightened her discomfort and distress. Her eyes darted about wildly as she inspected her surroundings. Once realizing she was back in her bed, her fear transitioned to cautious optimism.

As her wits returned and her breathing evened, she began deciphering her cryptic nightmare. The most puzzling part was that bats were not considered an ill omen. In fact, they were a symbol of good luck, happiness and longevity.

Orihime pieced together the symbols. "Cave, Flame, Bats…" She pondered, absentmindedly smoothing her hair away from her face.

The story of Amateratsu came to mind immediately. Amateratsu was the goddess of the sun. When her brother fell into a violent rampage, she fled with grief to a cave. There was no sun in the outside world until the gods and goddesses tricked her into coming out. A cave meant hiding. Why would her premonition warn her of hiding?

Flame was one of the five great elements of Buddhism. It symbolised energy, passion and drive. In her dream, Ulquiorra held a flame torch between them. Was this passion for each other or passion for a common cause?

Lastly, there were the bats: the symbol of good luck. The bats were supposed to be a good sign, but it was executed in such an evil, mortifying way. Was her dream warning her that her happiness was tainted will evil?

She sighed, rubbing the crinkles that formed between her eyebrows. There was always the possibility that she had a silly nightmare because she was stressed. A lot of things had changed for her in the last couple of days, and it was probably just a bit of fatigue on her nerves. The three main points of the nightmare did not fit into her current situation at all.

Well, not that she had a current situation. Things were unfolding differently than they were supposed to. A new string of fate had been tied to her tale, one which unfortunately had not been predetermined as was her famous 'Weaver Girl and the Cowherd'.

Orihime was for once in her life unaware of what destiny had in store for her. There were too many things she did not know or understand. She felt as if a blanket of deception enveloped her, but she wasn't quite sure of the perpetrator. A change had been set in motion, and Orihime did not know whether she should embrace or reject it.

She moved from her bed to her crafting table. Orihime was not the type to wallow in what could and could not be. If she let herself be that person, she would never have recovered like she had when her engagement with Ichigo ended. She would not have even remotely considered a new love and a new life.

The princess lit a small andon lamp to brighten her room. An andon was a cubed shaped enclosure framed with bamboo, with thick white paper covering each side. The paper provided a wall against the elements, so that the fragile flame was protected within.

She retrieved the fabric of her bridal gown and began to work. Luckily, she did not have much left to do. Her hard work had paid off and she was close to finishing, but as a result her fingers had suffered. They had been pricked various times throughout her hasty effort and they were sensitive to the touch.

Still, she busied herself until sleep engulfed her.

….

Orihime leaned against a wooden beam on her veranda, staring out into the garden forlornly. The morning had begun with a gentle mist that transitioned into a harsh downpour by midday. The rain had further dampened her mood and made her thoughts linger to more unhappy things, like her dream in particular.

When roused in the morning, she wanted nothing more than to see Ulquiorra and expel her account of this nightmare to him. She knew her stranger would simply look at her with scrutiny, making her feel ridiculous for taking such things so seriously. She wished to hear that she was just being silly and to finally be put at ease.

Usually she would talk to Sora about such things, but she had promised never to disclose any information about Ulquiorra. Of course, she could withhold his role in her premonition, but she was a naturally passionate person and if Sora got her riled up in her retelling, it wasn't unlikely that she would let something slip.

Orihime sighed, unconsciously brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She slumped onto a nearby bench and sewed away at the cherry blossom gown she had almost finished when she'd first met Ulquiorra a couple of days prior. Her inspiration for it had been exhausted since the day they met, but she was determined to at least finish it so that she could work on other projects without the gown cluttering up her workspace.

The princess sighed once more. Orihime cast her gaze out to the rain with boredom, letting her hands work on autopilot. Scrunching her nose, she peered out into the distance. There seemed to be a dark, misplaced blob plodding down her pebbled path. Before she could really see what it was, it travelled past a shrub that blocked her vision. As it appeared again, she observed the shape with scrutiny.

She rose with surprise when she noticed it was a rather humanoid figure. Her sight was blurred by the intensity of the rain, so she had to really squint to see. Dropping her fabric distractedly, she moved to the edge of the veranda and leaned out against the railing.

On closer inspection, she confirmed that the black shape was definitely a person. They seemed to be journeying up to her house. Orihime blushed profusely as she considered the possibility of Ulquiorra being thoughtful enough to visit her home despite the possibility of discovery. It was a brave gesture, although there was no real risk. Sora wasn't home and she didn't expect him until the evening.

Impulsively she decided to kick her shoes off and ran in her socks to meet him. As she left the sanctuary of her covered porch, she immediately regretted her decision. The rain did not take mercy on her, assaulting her with thousands of small, heavy droplets. Her dress was made up of many layers and it absorbed enough water to weigh down on her and sag over her form, befuddling her movement.

The rain had eroded away all the dirt, causing rocks to jut out of the ground on the path. The sharp points jabbed at her sensitive feet as the socks were ineffectual in protecting her against the harsh stabs.

As she got closer, the figure paused curiously as he watched her running clumsily towards him. Her kimono loosened and a few layers of her elaborate dress had dragged in the mud, ruining the fabric and exposing her legs inappropriately. Her comfy little socks were now completely drenched in sludge and dirt and would probably never be as white or soft again.

She paused, huffing from exercise. The figure jogged toward her and the black hood receded, revealing an unruly mop of orange hair. Her heart sunk and she moaned with distress, unable to disguise her disappointment.

It wasn't Ulquiorra.

"Orihime?!" Ichigo exclaimed. He was rather bewildered. "What were you thinking?"

He wrapped his coat around her chivalrously and exposed himself to the rain in her stead. She was pale, mostly from discontentment, but the icy chill of the rain also played its part. Ichigo attempted to rub warmth into her arms as they walked briskly towards the house, but it was mostly ineffectual. The pair rushed as quickly as they could towards shelter, shivering profusely as the rain continued to beat down on them harshly.

They reached the house, but despite their hurry, the two were completely soaked to the bone.

Once inside, Orihime ordered the servants frantically to heat the bath. With the few idle servants left, she asked for blankets and servings of hot tea while both Ichigo and she waited for the bath to be ready. Ichigo stood outside to avoid dripping water all over the house, but she ushered him inside urgently, pushing and yanking against his strong frame.

Since she only saw him annually she could never grow used to how tall he was. He towered over her, making her feel rather fragile in his company. She blatantly observed his face unashamedly, as she felt no attraction to him any longer.

His jaw and facial structure were a lot more pronounced than Ulquiorra's, whose lines were softened with more grace. Ichigo's eyebrows were always downcast in a permanent scowl while Ulquiorra's were smooth and serene, regardless of his feelings. His hands were rough and calloused yet her stranger's hands were dexterous and elegant.

For once in her life, she truly did not see Ichigo as more than a friend. It made her feel more comfortable in his company as she no longer felt the need to charm or impress him. The two of them could just sit together and enjoy each other as friends, without any real awkwardness or miscommunications.

The pair both sat on the tatami mats patiently while the servants worked away at heating the bath. Once tea and blankets arrived, they layered the drapery over themselves. The fictitious star-crossed lovers both laughed casually when they looked at each other. They looked like a pair of husky bears preparing for the winter, wrapped up in all their layers of fabric and shivering like maniacs.

It was an excellent tension breaker and Orihime relaxed, sighing. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you..." Orihime apologized, peeling her dampened hair from her forehead. "...I've been feeling quite strange lately and I forgot that it was our annual meeting today."

Orihime kicked herself internally. She had made a personal appearance with Ulquiorra to Tanabata in the human world only yesterday, and although time beat differently in her goddess realm, it was stupid of her not to make the connection that Tanabata in the heavens would be very close to the exact day in the human world.

Ichigo furrowed his brows and looked at her quizzically. "Then who _were_ you expecting?"

"W-What?" She stammered.

"Well, you were expecting someone. You did run out in the rain," He reasoned.

Ichigo was catching onto the scent of her strange behaviour, and despite the fact that they did not love each other; he was ruthlessly protective of the people he considered his friends. She had the feeling that Ichigo would not be as open-minded about her being courted by a strange man that had appeared out of her river.

Especially when that man in particular told her to keep things secret – Ichigo would immediately see that as a red flag. His involvement would overcomplicate things and Ulquiorra would become annoyed with her. And if he cut off the deal, she would lose her chance to live the life full of freedom she had always wished for. She had to think quickly and try to throw Ichigo off the scent.

"S-Sora," She blurted with panic. "I thought you were Sora."

His brow was still furrowed, but he showed acceptance in her answer. Ichigo didn't seem completely convinced, but he didn't have enough evidence to contradict what she said, nor did he have any reason to. She had proved her obedience in the past and he had no reason to suspect her of anything.

"Who else would it be?" She waved her hand at him dismissively and laughed mechanically. She wasn't the best liar; it wasn't something she had to do quite often. Telling the truth, even when she had done something bad, was a lot easier than covering things up with lies. Lies took cunning and effort to remember and made her feel guilty, so she rarely did it.

"Oh look! The bath is ready! You go on ahead." Orihime got up and shooed him into the bathroom forcefully, ignoring his doubtful and worried glances. She was beginning to feel flustered and the guilt from deceiving him was setting in.

The princess sighed with relief and made her way to her room. Her dress dragged behind her, leaving a trail of mud and dirt in its wake. It pained her to know that she had ruined something that took her many weeks to make just because she got a little overexcited and impulsive. Even if the servants scrubbed all the filth off the ends of her gown, the fabric would always be rough and weathered from being dragged so far in the dirt.

If Ulquiorra's face had awaited her under the black cloak, she would not have regretted her decision as much. Orihime wanted to be spirited away immediately. The lies were piling up and she didn't want that over her head. She was aware that she would have to deceive the people she loved to get her freedom – she would probably have to stage her death and make it seem like she had fallen in the Amanogawa. The only reason she was okay with even that was she believed that she could convince Ulquiorra to let her visit them every now and again, and hopefully mend the bonds.

The princess slid her bedroom door open and plodded inside with downcast eyes. She needed a moment to herself and her disappointment was still shooting needles in her chest. Orihime really did love Ichigo's visits, but he just wasn't the person she wanted to see right then. It wasn't healthy for her to be seeing her past infatuation again; especially right when she was filling in the holes he had left in her heart with someone else.

It felt like no matter what she did, she was in some way betraying both of them. Regardless of their broken engagement, Ichigo was the man that she was destined to be with. It was part of her fate as the weaving princess. They did not love each other, but it was fine if they saw each other occasionally to keep up the airs.

Her feelings for Ulquiorra were a lot more complicated. She had no real obligation to him other than his potential proposal and she should not have felt guilty or wrong for seeing Ichigo, but she did. It was indisputable that she was attracted to her stranger, but there was also more than that. Affection for him was slowly sprouting in her chest. It was fragile and the roots were shallow and thin, but it had potential to flourish into something much grander.

She did not want to deceive nor betray the people around her, but it was slowly becoming a necessity. All things came with a price, and this was hers, but was it really worth it to destroy the relationships with the people she held dear just for her freedom? The severity of her decision was slowly sinking in.

"How unbecoming," A familiar voice expressed with boredom.

Orihime jumped, pressing her palm to her chest to steady her racing heartbeat. Ulquiorra was perched at the end of her bed, regarding her with his naturally impartial countenance. He wore a plain blue kimono, equipped with hakama pants of a slightly darker shade. It suited him more than the yukata he wore during his previous visit. The princess dropped her flustered gaze in an attempt to conceal her appreciation.

"You scared me," Her words flew thoughtlessly from her mouth, "What are you doing in my room?! You can't be here right now, Ulquiorra," She whispered frantically.

Due to the distraction sitting at the end of her bed, her clutches on the blanket had slipped and revealed a naked, pearlescent shoulder. Her cheeks and ears bloomed red as she became painfully aware of the inappropriateness of being an unmarried maiden alone with a man in her room. Heat began to pool between her legs and her nipples puckered against her wet, disoriented clothing.

Ulquiorra seemed to notice the change in her behaviour almost immediately. He still wore his careful mask of neutrality, but she caught a glimpse of predatory enjoyment in his gaze. It made her feel insecure and melted her thoughts into a thick, incomprehensible pulp. Despite having spent long years with both Sora and Ichigo, she was still completely unaccustomed to men and the feelings Ulquiorra had roused within her.

Ulquiorra rose elegantly from the bed, and with jade eyes gleaming darkly, he slowly closed in on her, effectively backing the princess into a corner. He planted both his hands against the wall, successfully trapping her and forcing Orihime to face him. All her senses heightened and focused solely on him. Her skin prickled eagerly for his touch. She could feel his breath fanning her face and neck and it sent shivers of delight to her core.

Orihime's senses returned when she heard the quiet shuffle of a group of figure servants passing her door. "We can't- Ichigo is here," She panted, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

At first he blinked, as if he didn't quite understand. Eventually a change washed over his features and instead of the predatory playfulness that danced in his eyes just seconds before, a more sinister look overtook him. He clenched his jaw and directed his intensity away from her as he put the pieces together. A long, uncomfortable silence enveloped them as the clogs turned in Ulquiorra's head. Her guilt festered as his face gradually began to darken more and more.

Ulquiorra's gaze met hers. "Do you want me to leave?" His voice was low and smooth, yet there was a hint of animosity laced within his careful tone. It made her feel on edge and stressed her chest painfully.

There was something about the way he looked at her in that moment that absolutely terrified her, but she couldn't quite place it. Ulquiorra was calm for the most part, but there was something she saw in his eyes that made her hesitate. There was darkness inside of him that she didn't know if she could ease. It was strange, but the more she became aware of it, the more she wanted to be with him. Something in her heart sung to embrace the beast instead of run in fear.

Her thoughts soon reminded her of the matter at hand and she silenced her feelings and considered the situation. She could not let Ulquiorra stay in her room while Ichigo was there – she would have to juggle her attention between the two; and Ichigo was already suspicious. There was too high a risk of discovery.

Orihime could have always asked Ulquiorra to wait in her room while she entertained Ichigo, but that was beyond cruel. It was also a bad idea to tell Ichigo she was sick and spend the afternoon with Ulquiorra in her room. Ichigo would either have to sit in silence with no one to speak to until Sora came home or he would have to leave, facing the weather once more.

She let out a shaky sigh and gazed at him through downcast eyes. "I don't want you to leave, but you have to. I won't send him home in this rain." She admitted, pursing her lips.

His eyes flashed with anger and frustration, it surprised her at first, but she disregarded it painfully. They continued to gaze away from each other for a couple of seconds. It felt like eternity in her racing pulse. Ulquiorra retracted his hands slowly. His jaw was clenched and his body was tense with irritation. He was mad at her.

Orihime hesitantly rolled onto the balls of her feet and leaned up to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. Heat warmed her cheeks and ears. "I'm sorry," She frowned, manoeuvring past his solid form. She slid the door open hesitantly and turned her head to see him one last time before she faced Ichigo, but he had already disappeared.

….

The rain persisted well into the evening without pause. Orihime had insisted Ichigo stay the night as it wasn't safe to make the trip back in the rain. He seemed reluctant, but he still abided by her wishes.

It seemed for the best once Sora arrived, as the two seemed to have a lot to talk about. The men humoured her for a while and Ichigo spoke of his adventures in the human world, as well as the strange people he'd met on his journey.

He often talked about a peculiar woman he had met long ago, and she had heard many mentions of her in the past. She was not like the obedient women Orihime had learned to imitate in her studies. Ichigo described her as violent and blunt, but by the way he spoke of her, Orihime could tell he was rather fond of the girl. Orihime wished that she could have met her as well and joined in on their adventures, but the possibility was futile.

It was her destiny to be kept in this realm. She was taught to be like a nightingale – to sing, entertain, look beautiful, and to never leave her cage. Either way, the years of sedentary living had made it impossible to journey for long periods of time without becoming overwhelmed with fatigue. She was not capable of travel on foot, nor could she withstand the weather beating down on her.

Time passed quickly, and Orihime decided to retire for the night. She wasn't feeling tired in the slightest, but she noticed that Sora and Ichigo were slowly growing more tense as the evening progressed. It seemed that they had important matters to discuss and the time for charming repartee was over. Once Orihime had settled herself in her room, she heard their quiet footsteps pass by her door and into Sora's study.

Occasionally she snuck out of her room and lingered by the door inquisitively in an attempt to listen in, but their conversations were muffled whispers and it did not seem worth the risk of discovery just to listen to a bit of men's business.

In a way, she was glad that Sora had preoccupied Ichigo's attention. After the incident with Ulquiorra, she wasn't in very high spirits and made for boring company. Her mind was engrossed with thoughts of Ulquiorra and she felt guilty that she had sent him away.

Orihime surrendered to her room and shut the door quietly. It was finally safe to let her regret wash over her features. Today was his second visit, which meant that she had wasted a chance to get to know him better before she had to make a decision in regards to his proposal. The next time she would see him, she would have to make her choice.

Nevertheless, it was pretty definitive what her answer would be. She yearned for the outside world, but having a husband that she could love was also favourable. From the very beginning of her existence, she was part of a relationship that had been a sham. She truly wanted to love and be loved in return. To be able to connect with someone, with something more than friendship or brotherly love.

Worry constricted her heart. It was very unlikely that the stranger would visit her again when she thought about it. She had rejected him and worse yet, for another man. He was probably already searching for another bride.

Orihime scrunched her nose and shook her head, wrapping her arms around her stomach, expelling her doubts completely. She pulled out the fabric of her bridal kimono and worked at it diligently. When the universe had given her life, she had been gifted with the artistry of weaving. She would invest all her power as a goddess into this dress and she would use it to change her fate.

She could not lose hope.

….

The princess awoke to the gentle sound of her brother's voice. "Wake up, Orihime," He cooed softly, kissing her brow with love.

Rain pattered rhythmically against the tile roof, slowly easing Orihime back to sleep. She never felt energetic during rainy days and the constant showers were taking their toll on her. If Sora hadn't ushered the sleepy princess awake once more by giving her a soft shake, she would have probably slept the entire day away.

She had finally finished her bridal gown, and in exhaustion passed out at her crafting table. It was an embarrassing habit that she assumed she'd grown out of during her first years of existence. Apparently not; old habits really did die hard.

Orihime massaged her neck and rolled her stiff shoulders with a groan. She watched drowsily as Sora held up the bridal kimono proudly. "Is this what you've been working on?" Sora inquired. His eyes were glowing with wonder and praise. She could tell he was just as captivated by the gown as she was.

She nodded with a hum, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes idly. "It's my pride and joy," She commented with a yawn, smiling dreamily at the pretty fabric.

"Then you will wear it for me today," Sora instructed with a smile. He placed the fabric carefully on her bed and strode out of her room confidently, lingering to give her one last smile at the door.

"Sora, I-" Orihime opened her mouth to protest but decided against it. Defiance was rude, inappropriate and very unbecoming of a lady, especially when her brother had asked her directly. She could not refuse him. Besides, he had already left. Her opportunity to refuse had gone.

She really didn't want anyone to see her in that dress before Ulquiorra did. Orihime had made it for his eyes only and to know that her sentimentality had gone to waste diminished her spirits. The rain and her dream had also dampened her frame of mind and she felt very fragile.

Sighing, she made her way to the bathroom to begin her morning activities.

….

The servants were overall normal when they assisted her in her morning rituals. They scrubbed her skin and rinsed her body before she soaked in the tub, as was routine. The dolls were silent and acquiescent to her small wishes, and were _very_ obedient. She even felt less uncomfortable than she usually did around the strange creatures.

However, their behaviour took on a drastic turn when she asked them to prepare her dress. Instead of retrieving her garb, they returned with a bowl of wax.

She attempted to push the figures away but they were strong and instantly restrained her with ease. She considered pushing past them and escaping, but she was naked and completely outnumbered. She groaned in despair. Her teachings made her more concerned about her dignity than her own safety. She was a bird with clipped wings to the core.

"What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" She yelped.

"_Orders..._"

Orihime froze in terror. In all her years of existence, the mysterious dolls had never spoken to her before. Their voice sounded like a gentle whisper in the wind. She shivered and her skin erupted in small goose bumps.

Pushing past her initial mortification, she considered their reply. It made sense; the servants could not perform independent tasks. They always needed to be told precisely what to do to act upon it. The only one who could overrule her orders was Sora, as he was the man of the house.

Orihime pouted and scrunched her nose, annoyed. Sora was getting on her nerves today. She could tolerate him politely requesting her to wear a certain dress in person, despite the fact that she really didn't want to wear it for him, but to go behind her back and order the servants to make specific changes to her morning ritual piqued anger within her.

Although, the princess didn't believe that Sora had intended for them to react so violently, so she did not hold that against him. Sora would never intentionally hurt her. He was too soft and gentle to hold rage enough to want to inflict pain on anyone. Her brother was a natural pacifist.

She shook involuntarily when she considered how strong they were. The dolls had the potential to be more than just simple household servants – they could prove to be a formidable foe in war. They were easily expendable and did not have the power to oppose their masters.

Orihime considered telling Sora about the physical strength of the dolls, regardless of her feelings of annoyance towards him, but decided against it. The heavens were contemplating war and she did not wish to provide any form of information that could make the prospect of war any more attractive than it already seemed to be for the gods.

She was roused from her thoughts when she felt the rough jerk of her hair being combed and coated with wax. Orihime had only had to wear the traditional 'shimada' style on two other occasions, which were when she was first introduced to the heavenly courts and when she was engaged to Ichigo. It was expected of her to continue the style after her goddess ceremony, but Sora took pity on her when she had to repeat the process each morning due to her rolling in her sleep. Despite holding well against wind, it was not possible for the wax to hold against the weight of her head when she tossed and turned in her sleep.

Melding her hair into the shimada style was a very painful, very long process and it irritated her scalp. It also made it impossible to itch as the intricate hairstyle would be ruined for the sake of brief relief and the agonizing process would have to be repeated again.

Orihime furrowed her brows as the servants dug decorative ornaments into her hair. It pinched her scalp and made her eyes tear up at the sensation. She was already beginning to itch when they had finally finished.

Soon after, they began applying a light wax to her face before caking her countenance with a pearlescent rice powder foundation. It felt thick against her skin, like a mask.

Orihime felt rather strange as she regarded her countenance in the mirror. She was naked and shivering profusely, but her mask was pale and ghostly, hiding her discomfort. She watched as the servants traced her eyebrows and painted her lips blood-red. The princess felt transformed and could not recognise a single trait of her own, except for her sad grey eyes.

To her relief, they began to dress her. Their movements had quickened and were quite abrupt, meaning that they were slowly being pushed for time. As they began tying her obi sash, Orihime frowned anxiously. Her initial mortification towards the servants had barely dampened and she was eager to distance herself from them.

When they finally finished their duties, they left Orihime to her thoughts and exited the room. She stepped forward and noticed the white fabric parting to reveal scarlet red inner folds. Orihime flushed with embarrassment. This wasn't intended for Ichigo or Sora's eyes, it was for Ulquiorra. His naturally apathetic expression made her feel bold and daring and she wanted to illicit a response from him. Now that she could actually see the suggestiveness of the dress, she felt too uncomfortable even for him to see it.

Luckily the foundation hid her embarrassment with ease. Her eyebrows were still crinkled with nervousness, but at least her cheeks and ears weren't blooming red.

Sucking in a breath, she stepped out to join her brother and Ichigo. Something big must have been planned for Sora to order the servants to dress her formally. She had never felt angry with Sora before today and she wished she'd never feel this way again. It constricted her chest painfully and made her feel conflicted. When he had broken up her and Ichigo's engagement, she felt sad but not once did she feel or direct any anger towards him.

She made baby steps down the hallway as to not disturb the white of her gown. Orihime felt ashamed. A part of her felt as if she was betraying Ulquiorra by wearing this in front of other men, but she had no choice. Women were expected to be obedient, and she was no exception. Even as a goddess.

Luckily, the symbolism of the dress was lost on Ichigo and he regarded her as he always did. Ichigo was a good friend and would have been a great husband, but his heart and his attention were always elsewhere. Orihime could have bounced into the room naked and he still wouldn't have been capable of seeing her as anything else but a friend.

Sora smiled at her appreciatively and wrapped his arms around her, but Orihime couldn't find it in herself to return his affections. She held her head down and waited for it all to be over. He did not notice her subtle rejection and instead continued to sing his praise before making his way to his study with a wink, promising to join the two of them in a couple of minutes.

Ichigo led her out onto the veranda where they stood in silence and listened to the rain. It showed no sign of ceasing for at least a couple more days, and she assumed Ichigo would stay until it finally slowed.

Her companion seemed to be deep in thought. He was stiff, held his gaze to the rain and for a while paid her no mind. When Ichigo was brooding it was unwise to disturb him. They were usually content in spending time in silence, but this time a thick tension enveloped the two of them. She waited patiently for him to get out what was on his mind.

"I'm going to war." Ichigo stated, cutting through the silence. "I don't want the people dear to me to disappear..."

She sucked in a breath, processing what Ichigo had just revealed. Her heart began to thump wildly in her chest with both worry and fear for her dear friend. "The heavens have decided to _fight_?" Orihime questioned with shock. She shook her head, grabbing onto his sleeve desperately. "There are better ways than fighting!"

Ichigo ignored her, continuing to scowl at the rain. "Your brother told me that he's scared you'll disappear. He believes that if we marry like in the legend, you'll be safer." Ichigo's tone was deadpan and his eyes seemed sad. He still couldn't manage to make eye contact with her.

"No… I don't want to marry you!" Orihime wailed desperately. "We're not in love!" Orihime's hopes were slowly crumbling to pieces around her. If she were to marry Ichigo, she would never leave this place or bask in the human realm again. She whimpered, her eyes watering with tears. She would never see Ulquiorra again. This marriage would set her original destiny in stone, and that was the _last_ thing she wanted!

"You have to. I won't take any risks and if there is the possibility this will help in your survival, I will do it," Sora ordered severely. She did not know how long he stood by the door, nor did she care. She could tell Ichigo did not want to marry her either, and she didn't want to ruin their friendship with a miserable marriage.

"I won't!" She screamed defiantly, shocking both Ichigo and her brother. Sora's face twisted with rage and offense. He lunged for her and gripped her arm so tightly it hurt. In retaliation, she swung her hand across his face as hard as her strength would allow. He released his hold on her and pressed his hand tenderly against his cheek, bewildered.

Orihime was overwhelmed. Panicking, she sprinted out into the rain in search for the river. Ichigo and Sora were both caught off guard. They were still frozen with shock and did not expect her to run from them, giving her a head start. Instead of following the dirt path, she took a short cut and waded through the bushes and trees of the thick, luscious garden. Sora and Ichigo seemed to recover and called out for her in the distance, but she continued to flee.

"Ulquiorra!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs. She continued to scream for him until she had exhausted her voice. Still, she ran towards the Amanogawa in hopes that he'd be waiting for her haughtily, probably still annoyed about her rejection. If he had abandoned her, she would plunge into the depths of the river and try to escape on her own or kill herself.

As she neared the brook, she slipped and scraped her knee. Her memory taunted her with the time Ulquiorra had interrupted her fall at the exact same spot. "I'll marry you!" She cried hysterically. "I want to marry you, Ulquiorra!" She crawled painfully towards the riverbed and searched desperately in the water, but the rain blurred the surface, making it impossible to see anything.

Orihime's fingers bled from dragging her body through the grass, reopening the wounds from the creation of her ruined dress. The princess contemplated throwing herself into the river, but the water seemed wild from the rain and she feared being dragged along with the currents and drowning. It was never explained to her what happened if the gods suffered a mortal wound, but it wasn't something she wanted to test either. She did not want to marry Ichigo, but she preferred that over the possibility of death.

Orihime cried with despair and frustration, rubbing her forehead into the grass and clenching her bleeding fists. This was not how things were supposed to be. She was going to quietly leave and sneak away with her new husband and live a new life full of adventure. She would come back after their marriage had settled and repair her bonds with her brother and friend and they would forgive her after seeing how happy she was! Things weren't supposed to be this way... It wasn't fair! She wanted to be with Ulquiorra!

A coat was thrown over her body and she expected to hear Sora's worried and confused questions or even a harsh scolding. Instead, she was met with gentle silence. She lifted her head off the ground and looked up curiously, only to find a pair of bright green eyes scrutinising her cynically.

"There are other ways to get my attention than covering yourself in filth," Ulquiorra commented mockingly. He bent down and inspected her injured leg carefully, causing her to blush at his touch. "It seems I'll have to carry you the rest of the way. What a troublesome woman..."

She couldn't help but grin with relief and happiness that he had returned for her. He lifted her off the ground easily, careful to not disturb her injuries. A strange mixture of a whimper and a laugh choked from Orihime's lips, and he eyed her silently with inquiry. The princess met his gaze and shrugged, unable to express her feelings in words.

Despite the loud pour of the rain, she could hear both her brother and Ichigo shout in the distance. It sobered her elevated mood and she began preparing for the situation to come. They had finally spotted her and were now running briskly towards both her and her stranger.

She could feel Ulquiorra tense and she instinctively flicked her gaze to his jaw. As she predicted, his jaw clenched when he felt annoyed. Her stranger remained silent and as still as a statue. He did not even shiver as the rain soaked him completely, small droplets falling from the tips of his midnight black hair.

"Get away from him, Orihime!" She heard her brother yell desperately. "He's dangerous!"

The two men scrambled through the slippery grass towards them. Orihime looked up at Ulquiorra questioningly, but he remained as still as a statue. Worry began to grip her as it set in that she didn't quite know this man. It never occurred to her that he could have possibly been dangerous. She was too focused on the good and too scared to acknowledge the bad.

"Don't take her, Enma!" Sora pleaded frantically. Her brother began to ramble incomprehensibly, attempting to beg and bargain for her life. He fully prostrated in front of Ulquiorra but her stranger continued to regard him coldly, as if he were as lowly as a cockroach or something as equally disgusting.

Orihime was too shocked to say a single word. Enma was the wrathful god of the underworld – the exact god the heavenly courts were planning to wage war against. He ferried the dead human souls to hell and judged them, torturing the souls that lived poorly. All her teachings described him as the heart of all evil and cruelty itself. Where the gods lived in light and happiness, Enma existed in darkness and fear.

She really was a stupid girl. On a whim she had traded a caged yet comfortable and safe life for one of complete uncertainty. She assumed he was just a small unknown foreign god, she never expected him to be _Enma_.

Realisation dawned on her. Ulquiorra- or Enma -was planning to use her as a hostage to spite the gods of the Heavenly Court. He would probably torture her and leave her somewhere in the god's realm, beaten and raped. That or he would throw her into a dungeon to rot, leaving her a prisoner of war.

"This woman made a deal with me. She is now my wife and there is nothing you can do to change that now." Ulquiorra's voice was the same as it had always been – calm with menacing undertones. Orihime had just never seen it before. She was so focused on finding things that she liked about him that she had completely overlooked the possibility of real danger.

Orihime locked eyes desperately with Ichigo and Sora as Ulquiorra tore a curious black rip in time and space across her realm. It was rough, like a tear in a piece of fabric. The strange gash slowly widened enough for both her and Ulquiorra to easily dive through. As she stared into the depths of the crude portal, all she could see was swallowing darkness.

Ulquiorra turned; impatient to make their journey into the mysterious beyond with her in tow. Recovering from her petrified horror, Orihime shrieked, reaching desperately for Ichigo.

"Orihime!" Ichigo lunged for her, but it was already too late. Ulquiorra had already stepped into the ever encompassing darkness, her old life disappearing before her eyes.

….

Redone a bit: 24/10/15

Thank you for the beautiful reviews for last chapter guys! I'm so incredibly grateful to all of you!

Edited by Avid Vampire Hunter 14/4/14 (I forgot to include this in the first chapter as well.)

-Lorelai.


	3. Chapter 3: Free at Last?

Thank you to the reviewers that helped point out many of my mistakes, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

This chapter has been edited by Avid Vampire Hunter 16/4/14

...

Chapter 3: Free at last?

Orihime clenched her outstretched hand in defeat, sobbing remorsefully. Ulquiorra still held on to her and continued walking without hesitation, his face plastered with indifference and his eyes set dead ahead.

"Sora…" Orihime moaned with distress. She gazed up at Ulquiorra and wondered if he would take pity on her and take her back to her brother, but she knew he would not relent. Her brother had even thrown himself before him, and Ulquiorra- or Enma -still did not show any sign of remorse or pity. The tales she had read whilst studying the gods described him as ruthless and merciless. She had made a deal with the devil that could not be broken.

Accepting defeat, the princess decided to distract herself from crying by blinking away the remainder of her tears. She slumped in his hold, her knee stinging from pain. Small rocks and dirt were lodged inside her wound and grass stains surrounded the graze. It looked rather ghastly and felt just as bad.

Her previous life was sheltered and her time outdoors rare. Her culture and tradition forbade her from running outside and because of that; she avoided the harm of cuts and scrapes. That did not stop her from being hurt, however. Being naturally clumsy, she often bumped into things and bruised herself quite often within the household. Still, that did not compare to bleeding.

No matter how much or how badly she hurt herself, Sora was always there to help her up and kiss her wounds. He was patient and his love was unconditional, regardless of her shortcomings. Sora had always been with her every step of the way, and now that he was gone she truly came to appreciate his part in her life.

Orihime had foolishly believed that because she was not loved by the star-crossed lover of her tale, she was not truly loved at all. It shamed her to realize that there were many forms of love in her life, and she had missed the most important one.

The princess chuckled to herself dejectedly. It was funny how much she missed the people and the life she had tried so desperately to escape from. She had destroyed Sora in her brash decision, and their last moments together were not exactly the happiest. It was the first time she had ever hit her brother, and all he wanted to do was protect her and give her more of a chance in these hard times. Orihime wondered if she would ever see him again.

She wished that she had brought something that reminded herself of him. Orihime had no possessions but the clothes on her back. All she had of Sora were their ephemeral moments of happiness together that graced her memory. Memories were transient and indistinct at times, but they could never be taken away, and they may fade, but they never die.

Orihime sighed, expelling her negative thoughts, and focused on her surroundings instead. They were in a cave of some sort. Her interest spiked as she noticed how artificially smooth the walls appeared to be. It was as if a giant earth worm had wriggled through and created this tunnel, with the assistance of time smoothing out the edges.

Large glowing spirit lights danced idly through the cave and lit the way in a beautiful light blue array. Orihime reached up to touch one of the strange orbs, but it bobbed away from her touch and floated lazily in the air. When looking closely she noticed a black concentrated dust or mist that tinged the centre of the wisps. Some of it slowly made its way to the outskirts of the orb, dissipating in the air.

She did not understand how things worked here and she had a feeling it would be drastically different from what she was used to. There was not much said about hell in the writings, other than vivid assumptions of what it would be like. There had never been a god or goddess brave enough to try to find their way into hell nor was lucky enough to convince Enma to describe what it was like. He was an elusive enigma just like his domain.

Orihime deviated from her thoughts and observed the cave walls once more. It might have been her nerves or stress, but she had a paranoid feeling of recognition. She squinted down the long, wide expanse of the cave, searching through her memory for an answer to why it seemed so familiar and almost nostalgic.

Her mind recalled her dream, but her nightmare had been so vivid that there were no landmarks that she could really relate to this place. There was no way of knowing if this cave was significant or not. However, it was worth it to consider all possibilities. If it really was the place of her dream, then her premonition must have been warning her of something.

It could have been a warning against Ulquiorra, but it was far too late to steer clear of him now. She was his wife, which meant she would be tied to him for eternity and could never escape from him. Orihime let the new information sink in with disappointment. She was so desperate for love that she had picked the first man who showed her any sign of interest. Ulquiorra was never really even that interested in her when she thought about it. He was just using her to spite the gods.

Regardless of the reasons why he had proposed to her, they were married now, and he was her husband. Orihime glanced up at Ulquiorra through her downcast eyelashes and she considered telling him of her nightmarish premonition, as it did involve him. His cold green eyes refused to meet hers and it infuriated her, as she was trying to put aside his cruel acts and genuinely make their partnership work. He had taken her from her only family and friend. The least he could do was acknowledge her.

But he was still quiet.

Orihime crossed her arms and pouted with a huff. If he was going to be that way, then she would not tell him a thing. Her sadness was replaced with rage and resentment. Orihime decided that from that moment on, she would never trust another person again. She would close her heart and never love or give anyone her friendship. The princess became more riled up when she realized that in doing that, she would become exactly like him.

Orihime recognized that she didn't really want to be like the devil; to be cold and untrusting. She liked who she was, faults and all. It was just that she didn't want to be hurt again. Her contact with people had been so limited that she had no concept of who to trust and what justified her confidence in them. However, when you stumble and fall you don't do the exact opposite – you figure out what went wrong and you learn from it.

Ulquiorra continued to carry her in silence, uncaring towards her animosity and grief. His jaw clenched and he made no effort to talk or console her and she really didn't want him to. Orihime was feeling very volatile and she wasn't quite sure how to deal with it or expel her negativity.

Occasionally her melancholy would surface in the form of a sniff or hiccup, making her feel frustrated. She hated how quickly her body and countenance betrayed her emotions. She wanted to be strong and starve him of the satisfaction of seeing her grief, but the walls echoed her anguish, making her feel quite embarrassed and weak in front of him. To counter her despondency, she focused on what made her angry instead. She began to seethe with rage and her hiccups and sniffs ceased.

As time passed, she noticed that there were no sounds except for the rhythmic tap of his feet as he walked through the tunnel. It made her feel uncomfortable, annoyed and rather scared. Her grumpiness accentuated her negativity and she just wanted to explode.

Orihime didn't want her life to be as silent as the dead. She wanted noise and music and laughter. This was a very bad start to what seemed to be an awful marriage and she couldn't take it anymore.

"You deceived me," Orihime accused. She had meant to sound angry - oh, heavens how she really was - but it came out a broken, pathetic wheeze of a hiss.

Her husband regarded her for the first time during their marriage. His jaw was still clenched stiffly and his shoulders were squared, a sign she learned as unapproachable. Ulquiorra's large green eyes flickered with rage, yet the rest of his face remained unresponsive and icy.

It annoyed her to no end that he was unrelentingly ignoring her, so she impulsively decided to incite anger within him. Orihime struggled in his grasp rashly. She pushed and kicked at him wildly until eventually he just dropped her on the hard dirt floor. She landed with a thud and her knee ached painfully.

The princess slowly picked herself up with care and attempted to dust herself off, but her clothes were damp from the rain and the dirt caked on stubbornly. She glared at him with as much malice as she could conjure in her aching heart. These feelings were killing her, but she wanted him to know how much she despised him.

They stood staring at each other heatedly before Ulquiorra broke the heavy silence. "I told you nothing but the truth: my name _is_ Ulquiorra and it did become a matter of necessity to retrieve you. I haven't lied, unlike you." He glowered at her and her heart constricted. It hurt her pride to be accused of lying by anyone, especially him.

"I haven't lied to you!" She choked defensively. Orihime nibbled her bottom lip in an attempt to calm her emotions. Despite her feeble attempts to hold back her anguish, tears of frustration began pouring out of her eyes.

She was supposed to be the person wronged; he the source of all her suffering, the guilty party -and yet Orihime was the one who felt remorseful.

She realized that they were two complete opposites and they would never work together. All of her emotions were unrestricted and displayed across her face while his always remained carefully restrained. However, she could tell that his careful control was being heavily tested by their confrontation. Ulquiorra's face was beginning to respond with the irritation within him, his lips pursed tightly into a thin line.

She had achieved what she had set out to do and he stepped toward her and she stumbled back as they continued their hateful dance, regret washing through her immediately. She was not used to conflict, or any kind of argument for that matter. Her feelings were virgin to being hurt by reproach and she didn't know if she could easily take it.

"You told me you weren't tied to him," Ulquiorra spat, his rage flinging knives to her chest. "I believed you, thinking it wasn't possible for you to deceive anyone, let alone me. I gave you my trust – something I never regard towards anyone, you being the exception."

"You kept your true character from me! That's just as bad as blatantly lying!" She deflected. Orihime did not know how to react in any way except defensively in this situation. The princess knew that Ulquiorra would not believe her if she told him that she truly did not have romantic feelings for Ichigo. Correcting him would only make him angrier and more likely to resent her afterwards.

She also didn't want him to be aware that his courting had worked and that she had genuinely liked him before discovering his identity. She knew deep down that if he didn't happen to be Enma, she would have grown to really love him, but that dream had died.

Orihime's heart sank as she realized that the prospect of their marriage ever being happy or conventional had ended with her discovery of his true character. She believed she could have been honestly happy with the Ulquiorra she had known a day prior, but she could never find it in herself to love _Enma._

Enma was crafty and evil, and if he knew that he had gained entrance into her heart, he would probably use her feelings to gain leverage and manipulate her. It had also wounded her pride to consider the fact that she had almost given her heart so easily to a stranger.

Her thoughts roused her back to her current situation and she realized that she did not get much satisfaction from hurting or inciting rage in another person. Orihime just really wanted the argument to be over as quickly as possible. Her heart hammered in her chest and her head pounded unmercifully, but still, she braced herself for the incoming onslaught.

"On the contrary, when we were together I didn't hide who I was from you. Deep down you always knew what I was," Ulquiorra jeered. "Sometimes I could see the fear and hesitation in your eyes, but all I had to do was touch you and you'd melt like a bitch in heat."

Hurt shot through her core. Instinctively, Orihime struck him across the face as hard as she possibly could. She let out all her misery and anger in that one swipe and for a minute, she actually felt empowered.

The blow echoed through the tunnel followed by the thickest silence she had ever encountered in her life. Her breath was shaky and her hand throbbed just as much as her scraped knee. The adrenaline pumping through her veins slowly gave way to guilt and regret.

Orihime tensed and squeezed her eyes shut, readying herself to be struck twice as hard. A few tense seconds passed and she slowly came to realize that Ulquiorra had no intent to discipline or hurt her. Locking her gaze with his uncertainly, she studied his face with care.

His wrath had receded and his eyes had relaxed their intensity drastically. The cheek that she had swiped was beginning to redden against his usually soft white skin, inciting more guilt within her. It was her fault in the first place for intentionally provoking him and there were much more civil ways to end an argument than to hit someone, regardless of how awful or how much their words hurt.

"I'm sorry," She muttered, continuing her journey on foot. She limped and her stride was slow and careful, but Ulquiorra still kept pace with her patiently.

It upset her to no end to realize that he came out the better person in this. He was her husband and he had every right to discipline her. It was culturally acceptable and even expected that he correct her and she had no doubt that many of the other gods except Ichigo would not have hesitated.

They remained silent for the most part, their eyes cast ahead to the end of the tunnel. She noticed that the entrance was still a far ways off, which dampened her spirits as she was beginning to feel quite claustrophobic within the narrow passageway.

Eventually Orihime needed to stop for rest. Her leg ached painfully and her weak muscles were absolutely tortured from all the exercise. She leaned against the tunnel wall for support, panting in exhaustion.

Orihime flinched as she felt a gentle hand press against the small of her back, followed by an arm slowly scooping her up at the knees. She forgot her hurt and grief and waved her hands about wildly in protest. She wasn't exactly heavy for a person, but it still seemed to be a long distance to carry someone. Despite her reluctance, he continued to support her without complaint or regret.

Her heart thumped excitedly at his touch but her mind could only react with confusion. He was a monster and he was evil, but he was so incredibly kind to her at times that she often forgot to hate him or consider his awful deeds.

Orihime was too gentle at heart and too quick to forgive. Ulquiorra had said disgusting, hateful words to her, had deceived and manipulated and had torn her away from the only life she'd ever known- and she had complied so willingly. He had done so much evil and twisted her life, all for his own gain, but she still couldn't help but swoon at his occasional acts of kindness.

She was weak and she had to learn to be wary of him, as well as everyone around her. Kindness meant nothing when there was something to gain and the only person she could really trust was herself.

….

Orihime's mouth gaped open and she gasped with wonder and bewilderment. The cave had opened up to a large expanse of ivory coloured vegetation. It was if the scenery had been coated in a thin blanket of snow. The leaves on the trees, shrubbery and grass were as white as porcelain, with the branches and trunks an ashen grey.

Ulquiorra did not share her enthusiasm. He glanced around disinterestedly and continued on his way without hesitation, avoiding all the plant matter without a second thought. Regardless of his apparent apathy, Orihime continued to enjoy the sights without her mood being spoiled.

She was completely taken by this new world. Everything was absolutely gorgeous, she couldn't hide her excitement. Intrigued and engrossed in her surroundings, she picked a nearby leaf of a shrub Ulquiorra passed and rubbed her fingers against the surface curiously. It had the same velvety feeling of a leaf in both her realm and the human world, but to her this one seemed a lot softer.

Ulquiorra watched her with a hint of amusement in his gaze and explained the phenomenon briefly. "In this world plants don't photosynthesise, so they don't need or have any pigment. Like everything here, they live off the miasma."

Orihime opened her mouth to ask more questions, particularly what _miasma_ was, but she decided against it. She was already having enough trouble constantly reminding herself to despise him while they were silent; she didn't know if she could continue to hate him if he broke through her barrier by conversing with her.

Regardless of who he happened to be now, she was naturally drawn to the Ulquiorra she knew before. The low hum of his voice resonated within her when he talked and it made it easy to forget who he really was. He still looked and acted like himself, however she was aware there was much more malevolence inside of him. There had to be.

She silenced her nagging attraction by focusing her attention to her surroundings. Looking up, she noticed the peculiar expanse above. The 'sky' resembled a large body of water that reflected the bright blue glow of the wisps. It shimmered beautifully and large ripples vibrated through the liquid every now and then. It gave her vertigo to look up at the strange sky of water and she wondered how it stayed up there so easily.

There were so many wisps floating through the sky that the whole place was incredibly well-lit. Orihime turned her head towards the cave and watched as all the spirit lights poured out of the entrance and bobbed up into the great expanse. The wisps seemed to be more inclined to linger at great heights than to sink closer to the ground, which made Orihime feel relieved as she didn't know how she would feel about constantly having to push them out of her way.

Ulquiorra persistently waded through the ivory garden, careful not to let branches or leaves hit Orihime while he held her. It seemed like a big inconvenience to have to carry her through the vegetation and it made her feel weak to depend on him, but an annoying part of herself relished the feeling of his arms holding her so close to his body. Orihime wanted to press her ear to his chest and hear his heart beat and hope it synchronised with hers.

Hushing her stupid fascination once more, she regained her unblemished thoughts. She considered asking him to put her down so that she could walk on her own two feet for a while, but she was fatigued and in a lot of pain. It was stupid to inflict suffering on her leg just to prove a point, and she had a whole eternity with this man to prove her independence.

Their journey eased significantly when they were finally free of the thick forestation and had found a narrow sandstone walkway. Now that they had passed the dense wall of vegetation, Orihime could finally look around at her new world properly.

She gazed idly towards where they were heading and her surprise burst out of her mouth in a long, wide gasp. Orihime could not believe her eyes; it was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her vision was completely filled by a great white castle with blue tiling at the very top. It was a towering expanse of pure majesty and she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

As they got closer, Orihime noticed beautiful pearlescent vines snaking up the walls in intricate waves. Ulquiorra kept following the path, which led them to a pair of stairs that curved up on either side of a large balcony, equip with a fountain in the middle.

As they climbed the steps, Orihime strained to see the rest of the beautiful entrance. Past the fountain were two magnificent doors guarded by two strangely dressed men. Their clothes did not flow like the traditional Japanese apparel and were rather fitted to their person. Their garments reminded her of a little bird called a Swallow.

They were mostly black, except for their chests and collars which revealed a gentle white and red fabric. The men wore bizarre black coats that hung down in two small parts like a swallow's tail. Orihime wanted to laugh at the strangeness of it all, but she held it in as best she could. The two swallow-dressed servants nodded and opened the doors to reveal a large hall.

The hall was lighted by a giant chandelier with an intricate iron design that entwined with seemingly hundreds of candles. Candelabras stood parted against either side of the great hall as what she assumed was both decoration and lighting. Beside them were beautiful paintings hanging decoratively on the wall. The canvases were for the most part normal, however there were a few she deemed questionable. A few depicted a man having his chest ripped open by a bird. The images were graphic and gory, causing goose bumps to creep up her skin. They were oddly placed amongst the other attractive landscapes and less grotesque works.

At the end of the handsome ballroom were two wide arched windows lined with colourful stained glass at the very peaks. Another staircase lead up to the magnificent window, stretching out wide at the front and splitting off into opposite directions leading to each side of the mansion.

Servants poured in from either side, most of them women. Their clothes were drastically different from the men at the door, although they still wore black and white. The women wore dresses that covered them from their neck to their ankles. The fabric was tight around the upper half of their body, yet poured out below their waist in a peculiar bell shape that covered them right down to their shoes.

Orihime was entranced by the way they walked. When they walked, their dresses swished to each side, reminding her of a bell's toll. Unlike Japanese kimonos, their gowns accentuated their breasts rather than concealing them, which made Orihime feel very uncomfortable. Her own breasts were quite large but she never had to worry about feeling embarrassed, as her kimonos hid them easily. If she were to wear one of these strange gowns she would look very vulgar, unlike these normal women.

The group of ladies curled around her and Ulquiorra in a semicircle and curtsied. "Welcome home," They recited together with ease. Orihime noticed that they were not all in complete synchronisation, which meant that they were actual people rather than the dolls at her previous home. Relief resonated within her at the thought of at least one good thing that came out of this unconventional marriage. She would no longer have to be around the figure servants.

Orihime gazed out across the ballroom as she noticed another strange woman peering out from the top of the staircase by the windows. When the woman had confirmed who had arrived, she hurried down the steps to meet them. The stranger seemed to look about her age, yet was a little taller than she was.

The woman wore a plain green yukata that parted rather indecently at the sides as she carelessly strode toward them. Orihime could tell it was unintentional and summed up that only a foreigner would be so unaccustomed to the Japanese style of dress, but at least she thought of her enough to wear something that her eyes were used to.

As the woman approached, Orihime was able to get a better look at her features. She had unruly teal waves of hair that cascaded down her back and shorter locks framing her face, covering her eyebrows. There was a strange red mark that stretched across her cheeks and over her nose in a long, dark line. Her eyes were a curious hazel that was more inclining towards a light brown than green. There was something familiar about her face that Orihime couldn't quite place, but it was lodged somewhere deep in her memory.

The woman fixed the split in her yukata before addressing them with a smile and a bow. "Welcome back!" She greeted. Her excitement was poorly concealed as she tried to maintain herself. The woman flicked her gaze towards Orihime and they seemed to shimmer with recognition and affection, as if she had known her for a very long time. It made Orihime feel overwhelmed as she was completely unable to place the strange woman.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ulquiorra slowly loosened his grasp on her and carefully set her on the ground. She retained her balance with a small hop and continued to stare at the peculiar woman with interest. Orihime decided that the look of recognition was just her imagination. The woman's complexion was so unusual that she could not fathom ever having forgotten her if they really did know each other in the past.

"Nelliel, I'm putting you in charge of taking care of her." Ulquiorra specified, "Give her a change of clothes, make sure she is acquainted with the castle and help her adapt," He listed indifferently. "Oh, and teach her how to fight."

Orihime turned her attention towards Ulquiorra and scrunched her nose up defiantly. Her mood had sobered significantly since her initial abhorrence towards him earlier**,** and he was now once again rustling her rage.

"I will do no such thing!" She bristled indignantly. "I would rather use words to fight my battles rather than swing a sword around and hurt people to get what I want."

Her defiance had reignited his frustration and he leered at her threateningly. His eyes were cold and dangerous, causing her to recoil in fear. She took a step back instinctively, her injured leg shaking from the pressure of her weight. Slowly, he pressed the tips of his forefinger and middle finger over her heart. Orihime froze, immediately petrified at his touch. She held her breath subconsciously and her heart thumped wildly within her ribcage.

"I wonder…" He murmured icily, "How far would your words go if someone held a sword to your chest? Do you think they'd stop to listen to your _words _before piercing through your heart?" His fingers lingered for a couple of seconds before he flicked his gaze to Nelliel and dropped his hand. "Teach her how to fight," He repeated sternly.

Her husband turned and made his way up the beautiful staircase. His inky black hair shone as the light drifting through the window met his countenance. It was strange how someone so cold and horrifying could look so beautiful and majestic, despite what lurked within.

Orihime dropped her gaze to the floor and held her breath as she listened to the rhythmic clack of his feet ascending the steps. Her new strange-looking companion looked at her worriedly, but she would not move or lift her gaze until she knew he was gone.

The flock of women servants dispersed after Ulquiorra had left the ballroom and they left the two women to their thoughts without a word. Once Orihime considered Ulquiorra at a safe enough distance away from her, she fell to the ground and sobbed. Orihime desperately clutched at her chest where he had touched her. She had never felt so terrified in her life.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder sympathetically, but it did nothing but shock her with a jolt. "Don't touch me!" She shrieked, scrambling away from the gesture with dread.

Shock was plastered over Nelliel's face until it softened with empathy. "Let me take you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up," She soothed, waiting for Orihime to raise herself from the ground. Orihime was weary of the strange woman's kindness as she was reluctant to trust a person associated with her cold and aloof husband. When the frightened princess showed no sign of budging, her companion sighed. "I just want to help."

Nelliel gave her a couple of minutes to calm herself. Orihime's breath slowly evened and she began to recover. "A-Alright," Orihime whimpered, rubbing her tears away with a dirty sleeve.

"I'll give you a piggy back!" Nelliel smiled at her reassuringly, crouching down so that Orihime could lie against her back. The princess wrapped her arms around the strange girl hesitantly before Nelliel hoisted her up and carried her to the bathroom.

….

The bathroom was pristine, with creamy white tiles and a large, golden spa-like bath that could have easily fit an entire family. Nothing seemed really that different from her bath at home, except for the style and another single, minor detail. There was a strange pipe and valve on the side of the tub that was too out of place to have been a simple decoration.

Orihime's sadness was replaced by curiosity as she inspected it quizzically, running her fingers across the edges of the hole. Her companion laughed and showed her how the strange invention worked. "Here, you turn this tap and water comes out. This pipe leads to the bottom of one of the hot springs here. It has many filters so that no mud or dirt or leaves pass through, so the water is really clean and hot without having to put any effort into heating water.

"We're all very creative in this world," Nelliel commented with a small smile. Orihime watched with excitement as Nelliel turned the valve with ease. A strange noise assaulted her ears and she jolted back anxiously. Soon after, scorching hot water poured out plentifully into the tub. Inquisitively, she waved her hand over the small waterfall. The water was as hot as a steaming cup of tea.

Since filling the baths and heating the water took such an extensively long period of time in her realm, the water was usually only warm at best when she soaked herself. This water was hot and felt tingly against her palm. She loved it.

Orihime flicked her gaze towards Nelliel, but averted it just as quickly. The woman's yukata lay neglected on the floor and she stood in front of Orihime completely naked. Orihime blushed ashamedly. She had never seen another person naked before, let alone another woman.

"What's wrong?" Nelliel questioned, hopping into the warm bath. "Do you need help in?"

"S-Shouldn't I clean myself first?" Orihime stammered, peeling her damp robes off awkwardly. She could feel Nelliel's eyes watch her questioningly, making her feel even more embarrassed and clumsy. Only the figure servants had seen her naked before, and they were just mindless dolls, so she had no need to feel self-conscious. As Orihime had grown up predominantly around men, the concept of bathing with other people was foreign to her.

"Just clean yourself in here. If the water gets dirty, we can just let the water drain out and fill the tub up again," She stated, waiting for Orihime to join her.

Orihime stepped in hesitantly while covering her breasts with her arm. The bath was deep, going past her knees easily. She submersed herself with a sigh, moving to a corner opposite Nelliel shyly. The hot water made her knee sting and she hissed, waiting for her wound to become less sensitive. The princess noticed that the stranger across from her was just as well-endowed as she was and she sighed with relief. She didn't want to look as out of place in this world as she felt.

She glanced over towards Nelliel once more and noticed something brown flicker behind her for a split second. "There's something behind you!" Orihime warned, rising out of the tub and pointing behind the other woman.

Nelliel gasped with surprise and turned around quickly. Orihime shrieked, bouncing from one foot to the other hysterically. There was a small, rather mangled, leathery brown wing perking out of Nelliel's back.

The woman caught on to her shock immediately, and reached behind her back to grab the end of her distorted wing. "Oh! This?" She flapped it experimentally, causing Orihime to lean in with caution. She reached out and ran her fingers over the brown appendage curiously. It was frayed and didn't quite flap as she believed it should, but it was indeed a bat-like wing.

"I'm not human or a god either," Nelliel explained with a reassuring smile. "I'm a demon. Of course, our wings are supposed to be internal, but I can't seem to retract my left wing. It's a long story."

"Aren't you supposed to be… scarier?" Orihime regarded her sceptically, yanking on the wing to confirm it was really part of her. She hadn't learned anything of demons, but she had seen many artist renditions. They were shown as beasts with faces just as terrifying as Enma's. They were considered wicked and crafty and prayed on human souls without any sense of remorse.

"We're not as bad as you think we are... and neither is he." Nelliel seemed to read her thoughts, smiling as patiently as she could. The woman reached for a washcloth and ushered Orihime closer.

"You're wrong. I used to think he was good too, but you saw how he acted before," Orihime argued as she waded through the water and sat next to Nelliel hesitantly. The woman lifted her wounded leg and began cleaning the dirt and rocks out of the gash carefully.

"I-It hurts!" Orihime whined, flinching.

Nelliel sighed, focusing on the grass stains surrounding the abrasion instead. Orihime began scrubbing the makeup off her face with a stray washcloth and untangled the various ornaments out of her hair. There was a silence between the two women as Nelliel continued to cleanse her wound and arrange her thoughts. "He was right, you know."

Orihime bit her lip and raised her brow questioningly, waiting for her companion to speak. Her hair was still hardened by the wax and her effort to remove her ornaments had turned it into a chaotic bird's nest.

"Fighting isn't always about hurting or killing. Sometimes you have to fight to protect yourself... and the people you love," Nelliel murmured, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. "I know his way of talking is a bit… unconventional, but he's never going to tell you nice things to make you feel better. He won't tell you everything is going to be okay when it's not. Ulquiorra is always going to tell you the cold, hard truth."

Orihime considered her words thoughtfully. Nelliel was right; it wasn't a bad idea to learn how to protect herself. There was war brewing and these times were uncertain. Things could quickly become dangerous.

Orihime had also never explored the outside world alone, but she was smart enough to assume that it wasn't exactly safe for women. There were people out there that were a lot worse than Ulquiorra, who wouldn't be ashamed of hurting or raping an innocent. Besides, she doubted that she would actually have to ever kill another being or really even hurt another unless she had to protect herself. It was just a precaution.

However, just because Ulquiorra was right about one thing didn't mean he 'wasn't that bad'. He had insulted and scared her earlier in the cave without any intent other than to hurt her feelings. Orihime pouted and continued washing herself absentmindedly. "We were in the cave before and I made him angry. He called me a bitch in heat." Orihime's face inflamed with embarrassment and shame.

Nelliel laughed. "Is that why he had that red mark on his face when I saw him?" She teased, her face lighting up playfully. "I don't think he's been touched by another person in nearly a thousand years, let alone been hit by one."

"You don't think it's bad I hit him, Nelliel? You're not going to tell me it's 'unbecoming of a lady' or anything like that at all?" Orihime questioned with surprise. If she had told any of her past teachers of her actions, they would have been absolutely enraged.

"Well, he deserved it didn't he?" She commented as she tossed the blood stained cloth. "Also, you can call me Nel," Nelliel smiled supportively, that strange look of affection appearing on her face once more.

Orihime couldn't help but smile with relief and laugh a little while observing Nelliel's mirth. It was the first time she had really connected with another woman before and it made her feel as if her situation was a lot less dire.

Nelliel's affectionate expression roused her back to her promise of caution in regards to strangers. Orihime tensed, chastising herself for opening up to this woman so quickly. Her smile disappeared and she gazed into the water forlornly, swishing her hands over the surface.

Her nature was betraying her and she was beginning to respond to the woman's kindness. Nelliel just seemed to have a way with opening her up, as if she had known her for a very long time. There didn't seem to be any ulterior motives on the surface and she didn't feel any kind of negative vibe like she had in the back of her mind when she had first met Ulquiorra, but that didn't mean there wasn't anything lurking.

"There you go with that face again. You can trust me you know**.**" Nel folded her arms around her knees and rested her head against her shins, turning her head towards Orihime. Hurt swam in her hazel eyes, and it shot guilt into Orihime's chest.

"I don't know…" Orihime murmured sadly, pursing her lips.

"Just don't hold back with me today and if you still can't trust or don't like me, you can keep your distance afterwards." Nel reasoned, tucking a stray teal lock behind her ear.

Orihime studied Nelliel's face with scrutiny, attempting to see if she had any ill intent. Her countenance was womanly and rather lovely; however her eyes retained a hint of childish innocence. There was no deception or dishonesty in that gaze and it made Orihime relax significantly. Again, it spiked a sense of familiarity within the depths of her mind. She couldn't quite place it, but it was there in the back of her memory.

"Hmmm… alright," Orihime hummed in agreement. There was nothing about Nelliel that really raised warning bells in her mind, except for her acquaintance with Ulquiorra. It was rather strange that such an unpolluted and lovely person could genuinely like him despite being aware of his temperament.

Nel's lips slowly spread into a grin and Orihime couldn't help but return her happiness with a smile. Her thoughts strayed to the information Nel had provided on her husband. She raised her brows and opened her lips slightly when she considered what Nel had told her.

"Nel, before when you said Ulquiorra hadn't been touched by another person for a long time… What did you mean?" She questioned eagerly. It was important for her to understand as much as she could about Ulquiorra as possible. It might prove useful later on, and it was a lot easier and quicker to gain understanding of his character from an outside source, rather than trying to decipher his odd behaviour in person.

"Well we're his people, not his equals. Besides, we're not immortal. I don't think it would be nice to see the people that you've grown to love die while you stay alive, never changing." Nel empathized, scrubbing herself absentmindedly. There was a hint of sadness in her voice that pulled at Orihime's heartstrings.

"It must be lonely." Orihime commented, sinking deeper into the water. As much as she didn't like him, she couldn't help but sympathize. She had been alone most of her life too, but it was different. Orihime had Sora and Ichigo with her as well. They weren't always there but at least she had someone in the end.

Nel hummed in agreement and they both scrubbed themselves in silence.

….

Orihime gripped her skirt and swished it experimentally. Nelliel had given her a reddish-brown gown that clung tightly to her waist and breasts yet fell loosely down to her knees in thick layers of fabric. Her arms and shoulders were bare, apart from a pair of decorative white straps that hung over her shoulders. She wore long white socks that climbed up to her mid-thigh with a pair of little black shoes. The shoes made her feet feel hot and restrained, causing her to shift uncomfortably.

Orihime had never worn something that exposed so much of her skin, but it gave her a lot of freedom for movement. She could run and dance without having to worry if her gown loosened. It suited her new lifestyle as a relatively freed woman and she would be able to easily explore without getting overheated or ruining the bottom of her dress through the dirt.

She enjoyed being able to take large steps without exposing herself and she felt a lot less restricted in the new gown, however the top half made her feel somewhat vulgar. Her breasts were fully supported by her dress; however the top seemed to accentuate her cleavage. Orihime attempted to shimmy the dress up with her hands, but Nelliel slapped them away scoldingly.

"It's the style," Nelliel reprimanded with annoyance. "You look fine."

Nel had bandaged her leg, and the princess was now able to walk and stand without feeling too shaky. It still stung when she touched it, but it no longer pained her as much as it did before. The woman also assisted in washing the wax out of her hair and their efforts paid off. Orihime's hair fell softly down her back with ease.

Nelliel had changed out of the simple yukata, as she was having many troubles walking properly without revealing her legs. She now wore a blue gown that ran halfway down her knees with a black corset piece that accentuated her narrow waist and sat under her breasts. The foreign clothes suited the woman much more than the kimono and accentuated her allure.

Nelliel tapped Orihime out of the room playfully with a smile. "Well, how's your knee? Do you think you can explore?"

"Of course!" Orihime nodded excitedly, and the two women burst out of the room and began their roaming. They pranced throughout the large castle, their shoes tapping against the floor in synchronised steps.

Nelliel showed her all the different rooms with zest, and Orihime let the information soak in as best she could. As they explored the dining room, Nel sat her down at the end of a long table and showed her how they ate in the new world.

She learned that they didn't use chopsticks, but many different types of utensils that were suited for different things. When she asked Nelliel what was for what, the woman just winked and told her that it was 'common sense'.

She didn't quite know how she was supposed to decide between all the oddly shaped metal objects and she hoped that Nel would help her when the time came. Even though Nel tried to teach her, the woman didn't quite seem to understand that things that were normal for her were vastly different for Orihime.

When Nel was finished with her introduction of the dining room, she pulled Orihime along to the giant ballroom that Orihime had first become acquainted with when she had arrived.

As they reached the steps, Nel ushered her over to the side railing and Orihime watched the woman slide down the railing with ease, her legs gracefully together. Knowing full well that she wasn't the most coordinated person, the princess decided against copying Nel and hopped down the steps as fast as she could instead.

When she reached the end, her tutor held her by the waist and grabbed her hand. Nelliel corrected the other hand onto her shoulder and pulled her along the ballroom.

"This is how we dance in our world," Nelliel explained, humming the rhythm of the confusing steps. Having never danced before, it exhausted Orihime rather quickly and made her cheeks glow a healthy red. After a while, she got used to the strange movement and actually enjoyed it. Her favourite part was being spun around as it made her skirts flare up and made her feel incredibly dizzy and light-headed.

"Maybe one day Ulquiorra will allow guests to come and this hall will be filled with beautiful people dancing!" Nel exclaimed as she continued to drag Orihime along. Occasionally the princess would stumble and accidentally step on one of Nel's feet, but her companion pretended not to notice as to not make her feel embarrassed.

Eventually they made their way to the servant kitchens and peeked in through the door as the lively staff chatted and yelled over each other as they worked. The princess was glad for the break**, **as the dancing had made her injured leg begin to shake and she needed a little rest.

Orihime giggled as she noticed how coarse and lively the women and men were when they were completely unaware they were being watched. Relief swam through her as she once again reaffirmed that they were nothing like the creepy servants that served her back in her goddess realm.

Nelliel interrupted Orihime's thoughts with a shriek, and Orihime started with surprise. She peeked through the door and noticed the servants were approaching to see what was going on and then turned to face her friend hurriedly.

A female servant was standing behind the both of them disapprovingly, her fingers pinching Nelliel's ear. "What did I tell you about spying, you rotten girl?" The woman scolded, tightening her clasp on Nel's ear.

Nel sobbed incoherently, begging for the servant to release her. In her hands and resting on her lap were sugary pastries that she had nicked while the princess was watching the animated staff. Orihime couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's pale, astonished countenance. It was refreshing to witness such familiarity and made the castle feel rather intimate.

"The master has requested your presence in the ballroom immediately." The woman said tersely to the both of them, before turning around and leading the way.

Orihime's spirits immediately sobered and she kept her gaze to the ground as both her and Nel were led to the ballroom. Nel had distracted Orihime from her hurt and anguish, and now it was returning full force once more.

….

Upon arrival, they found Ulquiorra and another man talking in hushed tones by the window. When the two men had noticed the presence of the approaching women, they silenced themselves and waited patiently.

Orihime froze as Ulquiorra met eyes with hers. Nelliel seemed to notice her petrification almost immediately and roused the princess back to her thoughts with a light tap on her back. The touch of her friend calmed her heightened nerves and brought her senses back to the situation at hand and they continued walking up the steps to meet the men.

As Orihime approached, she noticed how the stranger's gaze flicked over her slyly. His eyes were swimming with unrestrained hunger and desire, inciting disgust within her. Bravely, she glared at him with as much revulsion as she could conjure, but her efforts were in vain. The man seemed to enjoy her rebellion and something predatory revealed itself on his features. Her senses immediately warned her of danger and she tensed, evaluating him.

He was incredibly tall and thin, with straight oil-black hair and a patch covering his left eye. The most obvious trait of the man was his large, sleazy grin. It stretched wide across his face, although there seemed to be no joy present in his slanted eye. While his features were predominantly Asian, the man did not wear anything distinctly of that culture. Instead, he wore a brown suit with a plain red tie beneath his narrow throat.

Her eyes flicked over her husband quickly and she noticed that he too wore the strange land's clothing. Unlike the guest standing next to him, he wore a black vest over a snowy white shirt. It fitted to his lean figure and made him look much more formal than even the kimono he wore prior. His pants were plain black and were fitted much like the rest of his clothing, making his legs seem longer than Orihime realised. On his hands were ivory coloured gloves that clung to his long slim fingers perfectly and his feet were covered with shiny black shoes.

Orihime held back her appreciation when she regarded him. The new clothes were appealing on him, but she would not let herself get carried away by her attraction. She was aware that underneath his flesh was an unfeeling, callous monster that she would not let herself love.

"So this is your new pet!" The stranger roused her from her thoughts by nudging her chin with his fingers so that she was forced to meet his gaze. He evaluated her lecherously, his eyes trained on her cleavage. "What a beauty you've found…"

Goosebumps snaked their way over Orihime's body, poisoning her with fear. She clenched her fists and remained as tense and as still as possible, trying her hardest to look past the man's face.

Ulquiorra immediately recognised her discomfort and glanced at Nelliel warningly. Her caretaker reacted in a flash, slapping the stranger's hands away from her skin roughly. This seemed to shock the lascivious man, and his smile was replaced by an annoyed scowl.

Nelliel showed no feeling or reaction in regards to his irritated expression and instead looked at her nails casually. "When I was a young girl, I watched one of my brood siblings try to pick a rose from someone else's garden," Nelliel mentioned coldly. "Do you know what happened, Nnoitora?"

"Please go on," The man feigned disinterest but there was tenseness to his form that told Orihime he was listening more intently than he appeared to be.

"The boy carelessly grabbed the rose by the stem with both hands and tried to yank it off the bush. His hands were pierced by dozens of thorns and he retained the scars for the rest of his life." Nelliel laughed to herself cynically, "All he wanted to do was touch something beautiful that _wasn't _his."

Orihime could tell that the two seemed to know each other quite well by the undisguised abhorrence present between them. Sympathizing with Nel, the princess began to share her feelings of dislike towards the man. Nnoitora was very off-putting, unlikable person and he did not motivate feelings of safety or trust within her.

Indifference was no longer evident on Nnoitora's features. Nelliel's condescension had pierced through his nonchalance and pure repugnance leaked through his careful mask. He sneered at her with seething hatred.

Orihime stepped back and glanced towards Nelliel with worry, but not a single hint of fear fogged over the woman's face. She was completely calm, and even a little haughty towards the strange man. Her brow was raised and she glared at him as if he were an unreasonable child. As she did not budge or show weakness, his anger only grew.

Before Nnoitora could do anything rash, Ulquiorra cut in and interrupted the pair's exchange. "I think it would be best to move our conversation to my private study. Don't you agree, _Nnoitora_?" He asked, sighing with irritation.

Ulquiorra's intimidating tone seemed to rouse the stranger from his hatred against turned away silently with anger and annoyance in his step. Orihime noticed Ulquiorra nod to Nelliel subtly, and the princess turned to her caretaker quizzically, awaiting a translation.

The two women waited eagerly for the men to disappear from both sight and hearing before they relaxed. Orihime was glad that it was over; the tension in the room was so thick it made her sweat.

"We are eating dinner in your private quarters, and then afterward I am to lock the door and leave. Don't open it for anyone," Nel recited, imitating Ulquiorra's deadpan tone and expression. "I asked you to get his hands off her, not start a fight."

Laughter bubbled from within Orihime and soon she couldn't help but let it pour out. Nelliel grinned and pulled her up the steps playfully. The sleeping quarters were still foreign to her, as they had yet to investigate that side of the house. Orihime assumed Nelliel had avoided it - in case they disturbed Ulquiorra in their exploration.

"Wait, how did you get all that from just a look?" Orihime questioned with fascination.

Nelliel hummed thoughtfully before answering. "I guess it was a century of him glaring at me rather than telling me what he was annoyed about," Nelliel grumbled.

Orihime gazed outside with a sigh. The spirit lights were beginning to lose their light and darkness was slowly enveloping the world outside. The few wisps that retained their glow reminded her of the lanterns that reflected against the koi pond during her time at the Tanabata festival, which seemed so long ago to her now.

….

Orihime awoke to the sound of frantic rattling. She sat up and held her breath, listening with fear. The hallway was quiet for a couple of seconds, and then the sound resumed with more vigorous violence than before. She heard an annoyed grunt from outside and once again, silence. Someone was trying to get into her room!

Waiting a couple of tense minutes, Orihime decided to squelch her fear and inspect what was happening outside. Slowly, she slid out from bed and stepped as quietly as she could across the floor and pressed her ear against the wood of her door. Her heart thumped madly, so loud in her ears that she was certain everyone in the castle could hear.

She was met with silence, but instinct warned her that there was someone outside. She considered unlocking the door and confronting the perpetrator, but before she gathered the courage, a sound invaded her ears and made her hesitate. It was the slowly approaching rhythmic clack of footsteps outside.

Orihime pressed her ear as hard as she could against the door and held her breath.

"Is there something you need, Nnoitora?" A muffled male voice questioned firmly. Orihime recognized it as her husband and relief flooded through her. If she had opened that door and Nnoitora was waiting on the other side, it could have ended very badly for her.

"I just wanted to speak to that pet of yours, but she seems to have locked the door." Nnoitora laughed slyly, the noise echoing through the hallway hauntingly. The door knob shook wildly as he once again attempted to gain entrance. It made her flinch and she stepped back with apprehension.

There was a long silence before Ulquiorra responded. "She's sleeping."

Nnoitora chuckled. "I bet you must be excited to wake her, she has that feisty look in her eyes, and it would be so fun to discipline it out of her. You're a lucky man."

"Why would I rape my own woman?" Ulquiorra responded with frustration and impatience laced through his tone. "I'm not going to sully and break my own things like some sort of beast."

Orihime could not see Nnoitora's expression, but she assumed that her husband had offended the man. After a few brief seconds, she heard the sound of abrupt stomping down the hallway followed by the slamming of a door. After the echoes had ceased, there was a soothing silenced and Orihime relaxed considerably.

Before she could fully consider Ulquiorra's words, she heard the gentle rattle of the key intruding the lock. Quickly, she raced to bed and hid herself under the covers.

Orihime heard Ulquiorra enter and shut the door quietly. Her heart beat loudly in her chest and she tried to calm her breathing as best she could. Her skin became hypersensitive and she blushed profusely. She had never slept in the same bed with a man before.

Eventually she sensed the covers lift gently and felt the depression of his weight in the bed next to her. She held her breath and expected the worst. It was her wedding night, and Ulquiorra had his right to her as Nnoitora suggested.

A couple of minutes passed and her husband exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. Orihime continued to lie completely still for what seemed like hours, but not once did Ulquiorra even attempt to consummate their marriage.

Still, she listened vigilantly. His breath had evened into lengthy, deep breaths, a sign that he had already found sleep. Orihime's heart constricted. Ulquiorra was true to his word. He did not disturb her, let alone touch her.

She sighed, easing her rigid body. The bed was big enough that they both could have their space without touching each other, and for that she was grateful. It was like sleeping alone but having the soothing sounds of someone's gentle breathing next to you.

Orihime closed her eyes and listened to Ulquiorra's soft, calm breathing, but she found she couldn't sleep. Her heart still hammered in her chest and she felt too overwhelmed and weary to let her conscious drift.

Instead, she remained awake and waited desperately for morning to come.

…

If you guys want a basic visual idea of the castle, I was inspired by the Neuschwanstein castle as well as a few others (Hohenzollern, Sigmaringen, etc.).

Please tell me what you think and review!

-Lorelai

Looked over/reedited again 24/10/15 :D


	4. Chapter 4: Two Sides of a Coin

**Many thanks to my new editor, Avid Vampire Hunter!**

**Sorry this took so long to update. I've been pretty busy with courses and social things as well as a bit of a cold. Updates will be very irregular after this; however I will confirm that this story will never be dropped. I have planned every single detail from plot direction to the simplest and most mundane mechanics of this universe. I assure you that I will be here to write this to the end.**

…

**Chapter 4: The Two Sides of a Coin.**

"Are you ready to train?" Nelliel grinned enthusiastically, bouncing from foot to foot.

The woman wore an old linen shirt that Orihime assumed was once pure white. Time and lots of wear and tear had turned the fabric a musty grey**,** and frayed the very ends. Her oddly- and somewhat inappropriate- short bottoms were in no better condition and sat halfway down her thigh. When she raised her arms her top lifted to show glimpses of her midriff, making Orihime squirm with discomfort.

Her own apparel felt equally uncouth. Nel had lent her a singlet top and an old skirt to wear. The clothing covering her upper body was old and ratty; however the skirt was plain but in good condition. The woman had asked her rather urgently if she planned to always wear skirts and dresses all the time and the princess had nodded without much thought.

Orihime yawned, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She trudged after Nelliel obediently, unable to muster much enthusiasm. It had been three days since she first arrived in the underworld and her knee had finally healed, but she had yet to achieve a decent night's rest. Nelliel had been understanding towards her injury and let her relax, explore the grounds and adapt. However, she was beginning to lose her patience. It had been a direct order from Ulquiorra for Nelliel to teach her how to fight, and the woman was eager to begin as quickly as possible.

"Still not sleeping?" Nelliel asked, rubbing her back tenderly as they made their way outside the castle walls.

The brightness tortured Orihime's sleep deprived eyes and they began to water, blurring her vision. She squinted and blinked furiously, rubbing her lids to try to ease the assault on her retinas. Once she had adjusted, she looked around thoughtfully.

They were travelling on a makeshift dirt path that led slowly into an ashen forest, thick with tall**,** thin trees. Fallen plant matter was scattered across the grass in overlapping contrasts of dull greys and snowy whites.

A symphony of nature surrounded her as she heard the leaves whistling harmoniously along with the choruses of dozens of unseen birds. The wondrous sound lulled her into a calm, drowsy state and she wished for isolation so that she could rest within the dreamlike forest.

Orihime sighed, a puff of hazy fog blowing from her lips out into the frosty morning air. She looked at Nelliel dejectedly. "No," Orihime moaned. "It just feels so awkward. I'm scared I'm going to touch him in his sleep and make him mad at me. I also get paranoid that Nnoitora is going to somehow climb through the window and get me."

Nelliel laughed before humming thoughtfully, amusement dancing in her gaze. "Just don't touch his feet and you'll be fine," She advised playfully.

"How do you know that?" Orihime questioned inquisitively, reaching out to yank on a stray tree branch. The morning dew bounced off the ivory leaves and dripped on her face. She scrunched her nose and brushed the droplets from her cheeks with a flick.

"I used to sleep with him all the time," Nelliel reminisced, chuckling quietly.

Orihime halted and grabbed her friend's arm hastily. "You did what?" She interrogated firmly, searching Nelliel's eyes with scrutiny.

Nelliel considered her reaction and snorted, scrunching her nose up in disgust. "I didn't sleep with him. I'm his ward, not his mistress! I was just a little girl and the castle seemed so big and lonely when I was young. I used to sneak into his room and he used to say, 'Don't make a habit of it, brat.', but he never used to lock the door or tell me to get out. He was always too disinterested to care, really."

Orihime was very aware of what Nelliel was trying to do. When she heard stories of the rare moments when her husband showed even the slightest sense of humanity, it did make her heart grow a little fonder – although not noticeably.

"I keep forgetting that you actually age! You could have told me you were only just a little girl before saying something so suggestive," Orihime exclaimed with mock offense. She scoffed at Nelliel's humorous imitation of her husband and relaxed considerably.

With a relieved sigh, she released Nelliel and continued down the narrow dirt path with haste. She heard suppressed snickering behind her back and blushed with humiliation. Her lack of sleep was making her irrational and from what she had already observed from Ulquiorra and Nelliel's peculiar acquaintance with each other, it was very unlikely that they were intimately familiar underneath the sheets. She felt very foolish even considering that possibility.

To distract herself from her own embarrassment, she observed her surroundings keenly. The path was lit by stray rays of light that pierced through the cracks of the thick vegetation, outlining the opaque silhouettes of the elaborate clusters of leaves and branches against the soft soil. Orihime smiled, pleased by the beauty of the secluded path.

"As I was saying, he'd tolerate my sleeping next to him but the moment I'd touch my clammy feet against his cold ones, he'd kick me really hard!" Nelliel laughed, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

Her happiness was infectious and Orihime couldn't suppress her laughter. The thought of her husband's tolerance made the abhorrence she felt for him waver, which rendered her perplexed and uneasy. Nelliel's memory of him conflicted with her ideas of his character and didn't fit into the cold and evil person she believed him to be.

Silencing those feelings, she averted her thoughts towards Nelliel. She wished that she could have experienced infancy, but since she was a goddess, her appearance was infinitely frozen into adulthood. Even after hundreds of years she remained never changing from the first day of her existence.

The princess frowned, deep in contemplation. She bit her lip and glanced over at her new friend with anxiety. Being around other immortals, she was used to the prospect that they would coexist with her for the rest of time, but Nelliel was mortal. Gradually she would age and eventually she would die. The thought of it struck fear in Orihime's heart and caused her eyes to tear up.

Nelliel sensed her distress, naïvely unknowing of the cause. Still, she reassured her. "Don't worry about Nnoitora, either. He's just a mutt and he rarely visits."

Orihime turned her face away and dabbed her eyelids, preparing to put on a brave front for her friend. Her lack of sleep was just making her dreary and there was no real point dampening Nelliel's mood. Mortality wasn't a very pleasurable subject to discuss and Nelliel was still young and robust without need for concern on the topic.

"The first time he came to the castle, he followed me to my room assuming that I couldn't protect myself," Nelliel scoffed, "He grabbed me by the arm and I used the other to punch him as hard as I could. I broke his nose and after that, he's left me alone for the most part."

The woman's fist sailed through the air at her imaginary enemy and she winked at Orihime. Orihime smiled weakly and decided to deviate from her undesirable thoughts by continuing their conversation.

"Why is he so-"

"Lecherous?" Nel interrupted. "He's a political upstart that hasn't been put in his place. He thinks because he's got this far, he can make a grab for everything he wants. In a couple of centuries, he'll grow out of his profligate behaviour just like all the others before him."

Orihime accepted Nelliel's reassurance with a sigh. Her fear was irrational and she was aware of how silly it was, but it still hindered her repose. Every time sleep beckoned her into its embrace, a paranoid feeling gripped her and made her hesitate.

The reasons for anxiety were endless yet none of her fears had come into fruition. Ulquiorra was always as quiet and as still as a corpse when he slept – not once in the few nights she had shared his bed had he even touched her let alone taken advantage of her. However, she had no trust for him in her heart and her body remained ever vigilant during their short time together.

Her attentiveness during the night had taken its toll on her health, nurturing her fatigue and making her irritable and incapable of clear thought. It was also hard adapting to the new world. The food was strange and time ticked differently than what she was used to. Her main problem was finding time to rest. Nelliel always made sure to wake her in the mornings and rarely allowed her time to nap during the day.

The princess pursed her lips and looked ahead. The forest began to subtlety recline and pressed back to surround a large dirt oval riddled with leaves. An old wooden shed stood cast out to the side of the training grounds, hugging the neighbouring trees. The enclosure was spacious, although strangely claustrophobic due to the thickness of vegetation on the outskirts.

As they entered the arena, Orihime noticed a peculiar looking man watching them lazily from his perch atop the old shed. The hutch was old and the roof seemed a very unsafe place to sit, but the man showed no hint of fear or hesitation.

Orihime glanced at her friend hesitantly, but Nelliel's focus was elsewhere. Her countenance had sobered significantly since their time alone together**,** and Orihime immediately noticed Ulquiorra's influence over the young woman. Strangely, they both shared that same cold aloofness towards others.

It seemed like a mechanism to keep strangers out, but that didn't quite make sense. If that were the case, Nelliel would have instantly directed her chill towards her during their first meeting, but all she was met with that day was patience and warm kindness.

"It's about time, you old hag." His voice was low and course, and seemed to rumble from his chest like thunder.

He was an oddity in appearance, similar to Nelliel's strange mix of colour. His hair was a light shade of pastel blue and jolted up with a few strands falling across his face. Defined muscles were apparent underneath his clothes and his skin was a healthy tan, much like Ichigo's.

Orihime squinted with curiosity at the man's countenance. The stranger had piercing blue eyes. It was curious seeing a colour so calming and gentle on such a masculine face. Regardless, his presence intimidated her to no end.

The stranger slid down from his perch and landed on his feet with a thump. He sauntered over to the two of them with a confident grin spread across his face. His smile was a little unnerving. Instead of easing Orihime, it made her feel threatened and rather anxious. It was carnivorous, like a tiger's.

Nelliel did not seem perturbed by his insult to her age and her face still remained cool and indifferent. It struck Orihime as rather strange, as appearance-wise the man did not appear much older than Nelliel. In fact, the woman still had touches of adolescence in her face, such as in her cheeks and eyes, although she was definitely a woman that had reached adulthood.

Orihime smoothed her skirt and chewed on her lip uneasily. The situation was awkward and she had no knowledge of the relationship between the two. The princess lifted her gaze unsurely to the strange man in front of them, but she immediately regretted her decision. He leered down at her with interest; however his face was too intimidating for her to return his glare for long.

"This is Grimmjow. I'm teaching him as well as you," Nelliel informed. She ushered to him lazily with a flick of her hand.

He did not greet her nor show any interest and instead glared off into the distance with irritation. The man seemed even taller now that she was standing closer to him, her head only reaching his chest. He looked capable of snapping her in half with ease and his body language incited caution within her. Unlike Ulquiorra, he did not hide his vehemence.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Nelliel's touch. Her friend massaged her arms intently, pressing on the muscles underneath her flesh. It was a strange sensation and Orihime tensed, eyeing Nelliel with uncertainty.

"You're thin and healthy, but you have hardly any strength," Nelliel explained. "The first step would be building up your physical endurance. When in danger you have two choices: fight or run.**" **She sent a glance in Grimmjow's direction. **"**We'll start with running."

Grimmjow snorted with disapproval**,** yet Nelliel ignored him, pushing Orihime along. That seemed to annoy him more and he bristled with unrestrained anger, a harsh glare directed at the back of Nelliel's unsuspecting head. Still, she continued directing Orihime without a care.

"That path over there follows a track that leads back to here in a circle," Nelliel described. "Don't stray off the path. It's easy to get lost."

"You want me to run in my skirt?!" Orihime asked, exasperated.

"You're better off learning how to move in your current clothes than tripping over yourself when you're in danger in something you're not used to," Nelliel scolded with a sigh. She rubbed Orihime's arms reassuringly and smiled. "Just trust me, okay?"

Orihime nodded timidly and jogged over to the track. Before she began, she turned to Nelliel hesitantly. "Are you sure you're going to be okay alone with him?"

Nelliel looked perplexed for a moment before laughing gaily. "You're worried I'll have trouble with that brat?" She scoffed without worry.

Orihime smiled weakly before heading down the track. The path led deeper into the forest and made it impossible to see the training grounds past the thickness of vegetation. There was something unsettling about leaving her friend alone with a strange man, but she pushed past it. The two of them seemed to know each other and Nelliel did not show a hint of fear, even when the man was obviously fuming.

The princess felt relieved being able to finally have a minute alone. It was exciting getting used to the new world; however it was also somehow upsetting. There was nothing that reminded her of her old home – everything was just too different and strange. The thought of forgetting her past was perturbing and heightened her anxiety.

Since her old life had been mostly sedentary, she was very disadvantaged at running for long periods of time. It had barely been five minutes since she began and she was already exhausted. Unable to endure the physical exertion, Orihime came to an abrupt stop and panted desperately. She crouched down and rubbed her forehead against her knees, tears and sweat pouring down her face.

Over the last couple of days she had held all her sorrow and stress within her, and this was the only chance she had to release it without paining Nelliel or showing weakness in front of her husband.

Her heart thumped painfully in her chest and she could not calm her breathing. Instead, she worsened and began to choke on her own vicious hiccups. Orihime felt lost, afraid and excruciatingly stressed. She yearned for sleep and isolation, yet there was no chance for her to have either.

In an attempt to calm herself, she cast her gaze to her surroundings. The path was narrower than the one they had used to enter into the forest and the trees were a lot taller than those gracing the entrance. Nature called louder and she heard the gentle trickle of a stream somewhere in the distance.

Her mouth was dry and instead of following Nelliel's advice, she followed the sound of the stream and strayed from the path. The trees felt smooth against her palm and the leaves crunched noisily underfoot. She wiped the salty tears from her face and dabbed under her eyes. Her lack of sleep mixed with her crying had made her eyes swell and it felt tender to the touch.

The forest was thick and hard to navigate. Anxiety grew within her as she wondered whether she would find her way back to the path. The trees banded together tightly and the deceptive leaves hid traps, such as small ditches and raised roots. There was nothing distinguishing to lead her back to the path except a thin dirt trail left by the animal inhabitants of the forest and at times it became too indistinct to track.

The sound of water slowly became louder as she continued on deeper into the forest. Soon the vegetation thinned and she could vaguely see the outline of a glittering stream. There was an old tree with the thickest trunk she'd ever seen stationed next to the riverbank, its roots as wide as the tree trunks surrounding her.

Peeking curiously from behind a bush, she scouted the area thoughtfully. It was beautiful and light bathed the expanse generously. Orihime advanced eagerly but before she could make her way into the clearing, something made her hesitate.

There was a man resting idly against one of the ancient roots of the tree. The root rose from the edge of the bank and curved greedily into the stream, providing a convenient bench for the person to lazily swish his fingers over the surface of the water.

Orihime moved right onto the very edge of the clearing and squinted behind one of the trees positioned at the frontline. She immediately recognised the lengthy midnight black hair and almost luminescent skin of her husband. His eyes were closed and his features were soft with relaxation. Her heart immediately began to pound at the sight of him.

Afraid to interrupt his meditation, she covered her mouth with her hands and observed him intently. Slowly, his eyes opened to the soft sound of a bird's song and she watched as it hopped eagerly on a branch above him. The creature was small and round, with a puffy brown chest and black tail feathers.

Orihime gaped with wonder as he humoured the small woodland creature, whistling an imitation of its call. The bird responded by swooping down and perching on his hand trustingly, singing with appreciation. This did not seem to surprise Ulquiorra and he regarded the creature disinterestedly. The two continued their duet and Orihime watched with awe at the peculiar sight.

Her regard for him elevated and she smiled thoughtfully. She had an odd feeling of nostalgia and noticed he was no longer wearing the tight clothing of the netherworld. Instead, he wore the simple yukata he had worn during her Tanabata festival.

Orihime felt as if there was a lapse in time and she was back to the day that he had spirited her away through the Amanogawa. Her eyes welled with tears and she pursed her lips weakly. She wanted so badly for him to be that mysterious man who had held her hand through the unknown waters of the universe and embraced her tightly as they fell through the air into the human world.

Either as an impulsive reflex or a hopeless need for validation that he was still in fact that man, Orihime stepped out from her elusive hiding place and advanced into the clearing. As she made her way out, a twig snapped and returned her to her senses.

Fear struck her like lightning, petrifying her to the spot. She scolded herself with regret. He was never that man. He was Enma, a malevolent entity with the role of delivering the final retribution to the souls that had sinned. His existence was centred on the fall of mankind and his purpose was judging and torturing the dead. He was evil, no matter how serene or kind he seemed.

Ulquiorra stared at her sternly, his features returning to their normal harsh intensity. The bird had fled with surprise and the scenery seemed less bright and welcoming as it did before, as if a cloud had dulled the sunlight streaming through the clearing. She realised that hope and desperation had deceived her senses and she gnawed on her lip anxiously.

Quickly, she turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her through the thick vegetation. A branch sliced her cheek, but she ignored the pain and continued to sprint through the forest until she found the track Nelliel had sent her on.

…..

Orihime rushed out into the training grounds and ran straight towards Nelliel, wrapping her arms around the woman desperately. Tears began to pour down her face and she sobbed uncontrollably, alerting her concerned friend.

"What's wrong, Orihime?" Nelliel soothed, stroking her hair tenderly. She picked a stray twig that had lodged itself into Orihime's hair and laughed, "Did you find some sort of beast in the forest or something? I told you not to go in."

Orihime untangled herself from Nelliel and laughed dejectedly. "S-Something like that," She smiled forcefully and sighed.

Her cautious optimism turned to fear as she heard the piercing sound of a Grimmjow's frustrated howl. Orihime groped at Nelliel desperately, turning to face the perpetrator. She watched as Grimmjow began to pace like a maddened animal, his fists clenched and body poised to strike.

"I hope it's true that you gods never die, because if you interrupt our fight again I'm going to snap your neck!" Grimmjow barked.

Orihime flinched, backing away from the aggressive man with fear. Nelliel smiled reassuringly and ushered her away gently. "Go on, it's not safe here."

The princess hurried to the edge of the clearing and watched anxiously. She noticed a change come over Nelliel almost instantly. Her smile gave way to cold indifference and she did not seem to notice Orihime, focusing solely on Grimmjow with slight distaste. It was as if she were a completely different person.

Bloodthirsty and eager, Grimmjow lunged for Nelliel almost immediately. Before he could touch her, she swung her leg across the side of his face, knocking him off balance. He fell to the ground, his face scraping against the dirt.

Orihime gaped, surprised at how anticlimactic fighting turned out to be. Nelliel had knocked him down in seconds and he seemed too exhausted to retaliate. She waited for Grimmjow to stand and fight once more, but he remained shaking in the dirt.

"You bitch!" He growled, curling up and nursing his wounds. He thrashed wildly and Orihime was overcome with pity. Nelliel did not have a single bruise or scratch on her. Her clothes were covered in dirt but there was nothing to signify that she had any trouble sparing with the large male. He, however, was covered with bruises and grazes where his skin had skidded along the ground.

"You may be a lot stronger than I am physically, but you have no idea how to utilise that strength. You have no skill, no technique and no discipline. No matter how much miasma you suck in, you will still be as weak as a child," Nelliel scolded icily.

The woman flicked her gaze towards Orihime, her coldness thawing into her usual soft tenderness. She waved over energetically, "Training is over. Let's go back home!"

"A-Alright," Orihime murmured with surprise.

Nelliel's face was as changeable as the weather and Orihime had a hard time keeping up. She passed Grimmjow's defeated form in the dirt and frowned awkwardly. Resentment oozed from his features but underneath it all, there was only the despair of defeat.

Orihime watched as he slammed his fist in the dirt with a frustrated growl. He was too consumed by his rage to acknowledge her and offering sympathy would only be emasculating for him. At a loss of what to do, she averted her eyes and followed Nelliel without a word.

…..

Orihime dived onto her bed with a sigh. One thing she particularly loved about the bedding in the Netherworld was how soft it was. It was like sleeping on a cloud. The duvet covers were filled with duck feathers, which kept her warm and toasty during the night and were perfect to lie on top of as well.

She hummed happily and curled up into a ball, closing her tired eyes. They had just finished washing off all the grime and sweat from their training session and she was glad to be back in clean, comfortable clothes.

Her hair dampened the sheets, clung to her face and gave her neck a chill, although that did nothing to sour her mood. Orihime was just glad to be able to have rest in her marital bed without her husband's presence making her feel uncomfortable or suspicious. Sleep was already urging her on and she began to doze softly away.

Orihime's peace was interrupted by the aggravated thumping of Nelliel's feet against the floor. The woman huffed with frustration and paced around the room, unable to sit down and rest. She began yanking out books from a nearby shelf, but none seemed to catch her fancy, which was strange in Nelliel's case. The woman seemed to enjoy reading when she was idle.

Finally, Nelliel hopped up onto the window's ledge and scowled out into the distance. Orihime was relieved that her friend was no longer cold or indifferent, however she did not much prefer her annoyed or bored either.

"Is something wrong?" Orihime sat up, resting her chin on her knee as she observed Nelliel.

Outside, the lanterns outside were beginning to glow a dull orange, signifying the leaving afternoon and the emergence of dusk. The forest extending across the horizon reflected the oranges and reds, a beautiful sight to behold. It reminded her of the afternoons in autumn in her goddess realm, when the leaves turned reddish and brown. Orihime sighed distractedly, appreciating the beauty of the new world.

"I'm stuck training that brat and he's not showing any sign of improvement at all!" Nelliel whined, interrupting Orihime's thoughts. "It's like he's doing it just to spite me."

"You mean Grimmjow?" Orihime furrowed her brow in thought, her mind increasingly dazed by her fatigue. "Why do you have to train him anyway?"

"A few years ago, that brat snuck into the human world and started feeding on the miasma of live humans. There was a huge uproar and Ulquiorra had to drag him back kicking and screaming." Nelliel explained with annoyance. "He left him in my hands because he didn't want to deal with the nuisance."

Orihime frowned with confusion. "What's miasma?" She asked, clueless.

It was difficult learning from Nelliel as she had no concept of the basics when it came to the functions of the Netherworld. As it was all she knew, she considered it all common knowledge. It did not help that Orihime wasn't particularly a competent student, often going off in a daze during the most crucial parts.

Nelliel paused, her face reverting back to its usual thoughtfulness. "That's right! You don't even know what it is!" She laughed to herself before responding once more, "Everything in our world lives off miasma – the people, the plants, the animals – everything!"

She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing, "Miasma is chaotic energy that manifests within humans. It doesn't grow on the gods because your lives are deemed by fate, not chance. Humans are clean slates and their lives are governed by circumstance and their own choices, which is why miasma thrives on them. If they have too much, they become corrupted and hurt themselves and others around them and it spreads."

Orihime hummed thoughtfully. "Then wasn't what he did a good thing?" Orihime asked. "He probably cured a lot of people."

"He broke many rules." Nelliel murmured sadly. "We have a conscription ballot for who will be sent to the human world and Grimmjow wasn't enlisted that year. Those who are sent are guardians of certain areas and are supposed to protect the humans from beasts that prey on their souls, like the Ayakashi. However, the guardians can only suck the miasma from souls, not live humans."

"Then what is stopping corrupted humans from hurting the rest of humanity? You need to purge the corruption before it spreads to others!" Orihime warned.

"It's best not to intervene in their affairs." Nelliel gazed out the window apathetically. "Many centuries ago, there were a group of demons that caused calamities to try to harvest the miasma like your selfish gods do with 'worship'. There was a lot of pain and suffering for nothing."

Orihime considered Nelliel's words in silence, a horrified frown plastered across her face. It was true that the gods inflicted misfortune on the humans, but Sora had always justified it as a sign of love.

The humans feared the gods but also loved them as even though they held the power to cause large scale calamities, they had the power to do a significant amount of good too. They blessed harvests, fertilised the land and banished sickness. The gods weren't evil, but righteous. The humans could only appreciate the love of the gods if they also suffered from hardship as well.

"Those demons were executed, but in Grimmjow's case, he never cultivated miasma and only drew in what had already accumulated," Nelliel's expression sobered considerably and a tinge of sadness echoed in her words, "He did a good thing for the wrong reasons and neither Ulquiorra nor I believed that was reason enough for him to die."

"Enma and the rest of you are causing more pain and suffering than the gods by ignoring-" Orihime's words were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Pursing her lips with annoyance, she rose from the comfort of her bed and made her way to answer the tapping. In a way, she was glad she was interrupted. Nelliel had unknowingly hit a sore spot and it didn't seem worth it justifying the actions of something she didn't take part in or really condone.

Orihime opened the door to find a small, dark haired maid on the other side. Her face was round and youthful yet her features were plain and hard to distinguish. Her large, trusting eyes made up for the dullness of her countenance and gave her a kind of simplistic beauty. The girl seemed nervous and flustered and Orihime couldn't help but smile reassuringly.

"I-I'm sorry to intrude!" The girl chirped, bowing frantically. "We washed and mended your dress, miss. We were very careful not to damage anything – It's very beautiful."

"Thank you," Orihime murmured gently, accepting the fabric. "This was really kind of you."

Orihime ran her hand over the silk and sighed, her pride as a tailor shining through. She held compliments in high regard as in the past, Sora was the only one available to judge her work. It was refreshing to be praised by other people and she was glad that others liked her dresses just as much as she did.

The maid's smile grew wider and she nodded to both the women before taking her leave. There was an elated bounce in her step as she walked down the hallway and Orihime couldn't help but smile at the sight. The princess was glad that she made someone else happy; however her mood was still far from improved.

Once certain the maid was out of earshot, Orihime sighed with gloom. Although she was proud of the dress, it was also a sore reminder of her naivety and bad decisions. It filled her with regret and prompted feelings of disappointment. The dress was originally made as a product of hope but that time had long since passed and all that was left was despair.

"You can have this, Nel." She frowned dejectedly. "I won't need it anymore."

"What do you mean you won't need it anymore?" Nel asked, rubbing the fabric between her fingers with awe. She nuzzled the fabric against her cheek with a sigh.

"Well, I made that to wear for my…husband." The word came out choked and uncomfortable in her throat. Orihime coughed uncomfortably before continuing. "I wanted to wear it and walk confidently into my new marriage and new life, but things went a little different than I expected."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Orihime raised her gaze to meet Nelliel's. The woman's brows were furrowed and her body tense. Nelliel's lips were pursed into a long thin line and her fists clenched around the material, creasing it.

Orihime flinched, realising that she had somehow offended the woman. Before she could apologise or even speak, Nelliel threw the gown at her harshly, piles of fabric falling to the ground at her feet.

Although Nelliel's blow did not hurt her, it was a startling experience and her eyes began to well with tears. She had never witnessed Nelliel angry before and it made her feel tight in the chest.

Despite having lost the original sentimentality of the dress, Orihime was still proud of it and she didn't appreciate it being treated in such a manner. She sacrificed many sleepless nights and pricked her fingers countless times to make it.

Orihime's hands began to shake and her shock gave way to the annoyance and resentment.

"You could at least get to know him before you decide that you're going to be miserable." Nelliel said tersely. "He's really-"

"Not that bad," Orihime finished abruptly. "You told me that before, but I'm not stupid. He tricked me into marrying him for the sake of war. He's insulted me and hasn't given me a shred of sympathy since I've arrived here and he's never once called me by my name."

Nelliel raised her brow and scoffed, "I have known him for centuries. When other people are involved, he makes contracts and deals. Do you really think forming a consensual agreement for someone's hand in marriage is an act of war or even kidnapping? You're just trying to push the blame on him instead of yourself."

Orihime gasped, annoyed and insulted. "Stop defending him when he's the devil! He's meant to be evil!"

"Stop victimising yourself and look around you!" Nelliel shouted, waving her hands about the room. "This isn't some nonsensical tale where there is only good and evil! Does this look like an evil dungeon? Have you been raped or hurt in any way since you got here? Have you ever considered him at face value instead of dubbing him as this immoral, malevolent thing that is out to destroy your life?!"

"S-Stop it," Orihime begged exhaustedly. The tears fell freely from her tired eyes and her lips were swollen from nervous nibbling. She gripped her chest and leaned against the bedpost, panting.

No matter how often she was met with confrontation, she never became more used to or any better at soaking in discord. Each fight or personal attack was just as painful as the last and her own hateful words filled her with regret.

Nelliel immediately softened, mirroring her own hurt and anguish.

"Orihime, I-" She murmured, reaching to touch her cheek tenderly.

The princess flinched, shying away from her friend's effort to reconcile. Nelliel retracted her hand and frowned in silence. They both stood together, frozen.

Despite having a moment to collect herself, her heartbeat still hammered in her chest. Sweat mixed with tears dripped from the tip of her nose and landed on the floor with a splat. Orihime wiped at her eyes furiously.

She watched Nelliel from her peripherals uncertainly. Nelliel's head was lowered and her fists clenched. It looked as if she bit her lip any harder, it would bleed.

Orihime's chest constricted guiltily. She had known all along that they would never agree when it came to Ulquiorra. Nelliel loved and worshipped him while she loathed and despised him. It was wrong to tarnish her friend's beliefs just because she held an ill opinion.

Feeling guilty and ashamed, Orihime burst out of the room and ran down the hallway. Her footsteps were loud and echoed against the walls, alerting passing maids and servants cleaning that particular wing of the mansion.

She passed the kitchen, thick with cooks preparing for the evening supper. They regarded her oddly but she did not stop to collect herself and act her station. She was aware from listening to their gossip in passing that they knew how often she cried during her stay in the Netherworld, and she felt no need of hiding her emotional instability any longer.

She burst through the large twin doors, alerting the two men stationed outside. Before their bewilderment wore off, she raced down the curving steps and followed the thick stone path into the garden, immersing herself in the surrounding nature.

…

The sandstone eventually ceased and the path comprised of decorative gravel-like stones instead. They pierced her sensitive feet and made it painful to walk, however she trudged on without care. She didn't particularly know where she was going, nor did it really cross her mind.

Gazing up at the sky, Orihime noticed the day was coming to an end. The wisps were dimming to a dark, encompassing blue, with a few vibrant lanterns retaining their brightness like stars. They rose in glowing yellow clusters like fireflies from unseen places in the distance.

"I wonder where they're coming from…" She said to herself absentmindedly.

Orihime frowned and brushed her fringe out of her eyes dejectedly. Although she could see for now, there would come a time when even the bright wisps would lose their glow. She wished that she thought things through a little more, instead of running off where she could easily get lost.

"If this were my goddess realm, Sora would be home by now. He'd find me by the Amanogawa and carry me back to the house on his back." Orihime reflected sadly with a sigh.

Orihime sniffed and wiped her eyes, scouting the area for some shelter she could use to rest until morning. Hiccups assaulted her throat and she moaned wretchedly. She wasn't cut out for walking long distances and her feet felt blistered and sore.

The princess crouched down and hugged her knees, pressing her forehead against her legs with defeat. The rocks pricked the balls of her feet and made them sting painfully, but she did not want to move any longer.

"I always thought spies excelled at self-awareness," A cold voice murmured with a tinge of amusement.

"Do you enjoy seeing me like this?" Orihime sniffed, "You always seem to show up when I'm crying or hurt. Do you take pleasure in my despair?"

Orihime raised her head dejectedly. She was becoming accustomed to her husband being everywhere at once and it no longer surprised her. He was like a creeping shadow that followed when daylight ceased and there was nothing left but darkness.

Ulquiorra imitated her posture, crouching down so that they were eye to eye. Floating gently behind him was a transparent glass-like ball, filled to the brim with glowing wisps. His beautiful emerald eyes looked eerie in the yellow light and his eyelashes cast a shadow across his cheeks.

He watched her curiously, his head turned slightly to the side. He wore a pair of white gloves with his usual Netherworldian attire – a black coat and vest with a white shirt underneath. His thick layers of clothing reminded her how cold it was getting and she shivered, her breath a puff of fog in the frosty evening air.

"You're not wearing your yukata anymore," She murmured absentmindedly.

He raised his eyebrows and she blushed, realising that her comment only confirmed his spying accusation. She began waving her hands about frantically, her face a deeper scarlet by the second.

"I wasn't spying on you! I heard the sound of water and got curious and you just happened to be there!" Orihime explained, flustered.

"I had a meeting today and had to change." Ulquiorra said matter-of-factly with a sigh, "Your feet are bleeding."

Orihime glared at him indignantly in an attempt to hide her own feebleness. Still, her reddened face and neck made her embarrassment plain to see. Either way, she knew that he had already memorised her behavioural patterns and would have known her feelings regardless.

Nevertheless, her standoffish behaviour did not deter him from assisting her. He ushered her up gently by the elbow and wrapped his coat around her shoulders tightly. Before she could protest, he lifted her up and carried her with ease.

Even if she wanted to resist, the coat restricted the movement of her arms, making her feel like a giant caterpillar. Instead, she yielded and buried herself in his coat silently. His clothing smelled faintly of his scent, making her heart thump appreciatively.

The warmth and comfort of his arms made her feel drowsy and she didn't realize how exhausted she was. Despite her dislike for him, she was too tired to feel suspicious around him anymore. If anything, she felt mildly curious.

He had been for the most part indifferent towards her since their betrothal. Not once did he approach her or really show any interest. The only times she saw him were during their obligatory nights together as a married couple, and during those times he neither spoke nor touched her.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Orihime asked.

Ulquiorra's eyes flickered over her for a second before focusing ahead. He paid her no mind, choosing to continue to walk along without any regard for her question. This made her feel frustrated and she pouted with annoyance.

"You could at least talk," She sighed, wiping her face with her sleeve. She observed him keenly with a frown.

"What is the point of talking?" He asked. "It's such an inane thing to do. We could talk until the sun came up and we wouldn't necessarily learn anything new about each other. It's just a meaningless way to pass the time."

"It's not meaningless!" Orihime said with annoyance, "I could learn someone's likes and dislikes, if they have a family and what they do for a living, all from talking to them! It's easier than following them around and learning from watching them."

"All that information is meaningless. The only things you need to know about a person are what they want and what they're afraid of." Ulquiorra countered, "Those are the only things that dictate a person's lifestyle and choices."

"That's awfully cynical of you." Orihime mumbled tersely.

She was met with more silence and she sighed with relief. The conversation was further dampening her spirits and she didn't think she could particularly change his opinion on the subject. Around her, she heard the buzzing of insects and the gentle rustle of the leaves. Ulquiorra's rhythmic footsteps against the gravel added to the harmony and she relaxed, closing her eyes.

Eventually she heard the sound of water and pried her eyes open curiously. She noticed a large stone fountain that seemed to jet out water from the peak in a cone-like shape. The stone surrounding the fountain was thick enough to sit on and she sighed, eager to sit down against the edge.

Ulquiorra rested her down gently on the stone and in turn sat next to her. His knee touched hers and she blushed, licking her lips shyly. He unbuttoned the clasps around his wrists with ease and scrunched his white sleeves back to his elbows. Slowly, he pinched the tip of his middle finger and slid his gloves off, revealing his soft, long fingers.

Orihime watched him inquisitively, her memory reminding her of the feeling of his bare hands against her skin. She closed her eyes and pressed her hand against her cheek, attempting to calm the heat in her face. Her mind reeled back to the time he had spent in her room and she gave her cheeks a tap, pushing the memory to the back of her head.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but could you please put your feet in the water?" He asked with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"O-Of course!" She stammered.

Flustered, Orihime slapped her feet clumsily against the surface of the water, causing droplets to splash all over herself and her husband. She cringed, ashamed of her tactlessness. According to her teachings, she deserved to be reprimanded for her actions, and she believed her teachers would be rolling around in their graves if they weren't immortal.

Carefully, she gazed at him from the corner of her eyes. Droplets of water gathered at the ends of his hair and dripped down onto his now soaked clothing. She couldn't see his face, although she assumed it was tense with anger.

He moved closer to her and Orihime flinched, readying herself to be slapped. Instead, she felt the familiar gentle touch of his fingers against her feet. Her face reddened and she kept still as he plucked out the small stones and washed the dirt around her blisters.

It felt strangely comforting and she couldn't help but relax with a smile. He was always oddly gentle with her, regardless of how harsh his words could occasionally be at times. Even though his morals and beliefs were questionable, she couldn't deny that he had a strong capacity for patience.

There was a warm feeling growing within her chest and she felt a strange sense of tranquillity within the moment, as if she didn't want to be anywhere else but there with him. For the first time, she felt truly safe with this man, her husband.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Orihime asked, fiddling with her fingers shyly.

"Questions come with a price," He murmured with amusement, "I'll answer as long as you answer mine."

"I thought you didn't like talking," She countered, smiling cheekily.

"You're very interesting, woman." He praised. He watched her silently for a moment, his face relaxed with a dull tinge of amusement. "Talking is useless and time consuming. Questions are very straight to the point. I can accept questions."

Orihime hummed with mock disbelief. "Alright then," She agreed with a nod.

She watched him curiously as he looked up into the night sky, the minute amusement present in his features melting away so that only his coldness and indifference remained. Her own relaxed state died away with his brief show of emotion and she frowned, the moment with her lover gone.

"Kindness is the act of selflessly helping someone in need without any ulterior motives or things to gain. I wouldn't exactly say I'm being kind or nice to you." He stated coldly. "When you told me you no longer had feelings towards Ichigo, were you lying?"

Orihime furrowed her brows, too fatigued to properly decipher his cryptic words. Instead, she memorised it for later and focused on her own answer. There was no real point in lying other than to spite him, and after seeing him with that same curious demeanour as when she first met him, she didn't quite feel any hatred towards him. If anything, it gave her hope that he was still the person he was during the time he courted her.

"I wasn't lying to you. As I said before, I liked him once but it wasn't quite the same as how you made me feel when I first met you. I-I'm not saying that I loved you, but I liked you. I-I like you – how you are now, I mean." She confirmed with a blush. "H-How do you know Nel?"

Ulquiorra observed her, softness in his gaze. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but he seemed so unapproachable in that moment that she just bit her lip and returned his gaze with silence. After a while, he turned his head to the night sky once more and the moment was gone.

"We became acquaintances through an act of kindness or more accurately, pity." He began, "Many centuries ago, demons were rather primal. Morals, beliefs, values - They possessed none of those things."

"So they weren't so different from the first people then," Orihime confirmed with a nod, entranced.

"They are generally similar in many ways, however they reproduce rather differently. Demons are born from large concentrations of miasma that group together in the atmosphere. From them, broods of up to thirteen demons spawn. On occasion, the siblings will harness more miasma than available and a runt will fall short."

Orihime furrowed her brow as the pieces began to fit together. Nelliel was perfect at a glance, but when she removed her clothes or wore something that exposed her back, her deformed wing stuck out like a sore thumb. Orihime just assumed that it was damaged in an accident and that she didn't particularly want to talk about it, but the truth revealed to be a lot more severe than she initially believed.

"Nelliel was healthy except for a single wing. Regardless, they did not show mercy. They scratched across her face the mark of an outcast. They planned to use her as a vessel for toxic amounts of miasma. When demons suck in miasma, they age. Nelliel would have undergone a drastic growth spurt until she either died from the pain or became so old she turned to dust." He explained with disdain. "I interfered before that could take place."

"Why did you save her when you had nothing to gain?" Orihime asked, rubbing the first droplets of tears from her eyes.

"I gave you two questions for the price of one and I'm not feeling particularly generous this evening. It's time I take you back to the palace." He uttered tersely, his jaw clenched.

Orihime's brain worked frantically. He had teased her curiosity and she was determined to learn the answer to her question. It seemed like an important piece of discovering a good point of his true character and she wanted to know him. As he leaned in to pick her up, she entangled her fingers in his hair and pressed her lips to his.

His lips felt cool and soft to touch, just as she had imagined them. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations. The kiss was chaste and delicate, her inexperience and shyness making her reluctant to experiment further. Her knees shook with both excitement and nervousness and her cheeks burned bright.

Orihime broke away with a sigh, running her hands through his thick, dark locks appreciatively. She smiled at him unsurely, her ulterior motives forgotten by the sweetness of their intimacy.

There was softness in his gaze, yet to her surprise also a great sadness too. For the first time since she had met him, he seemed vulnerable. In that moment, his title of the god of death really didn't seem to mean anything to her. He was the same Ulquiorra that held her as they fell and the same one that yelled at her in the cave. She looked at him questioningly, but before she could seek answers, he tilted his head to the side and kissed her.

He took charge, massaging his lips against hers passionately. Orihime moaned, heat rushing to the very peaks of her ears. She tugged at his locks with urgency, her body yearning for his touch.

Her enthusiasm only caused him to pull away, amusement flickering in his eyes. Orihime pouted unconsciously, desire still burning deep within her. She doubted that Ichigo or any other man could ever make her feel quite like this. She might have grown to love them in time, but never would she have felt such fervour and passion.

He seemed to sense her thoughts and nipped her lip slowly, bringing her back to the moment. She gasped, her bottom lip tingling with hypersensitivity. He kissed her once more, but before she could completely lose herself, she felt the warm, slick feeling of his tongue flicking against her own.

The feeling sent shivers down her spine and ignited her loins. She yelped, the sensation completely alien to her. Flustered, she lost her balance and toppled into the cold fountain water. The icy chill immediately dampened the fire growing within her and she groaned, her body convulsing with shivers from the frosty water.

"Y-You could have at least warned me you were going to do t-that first!" Orihime huffed indignantly, scrambled to her feet.

Luckily the fountain only reached her knees, although that did not prevent her from being completely soaked to the bone. She waded through the murky water and rested her knee against the edge of the fountain, preparing to hop over. Ulquiorra offered her a hand but she ignored it indignantly.

"You're an anomaly, woman." Ulquiorra murmured, his amusement returning. "An immortal's emotions tend to cease after a few centuries, yet your own are as abundant and ever-changing as a human's. You're fascinating."

She wrung the water out of the layers of her dress, considering his words thoughtfully. Instead of humouring his improved mood, she frowned despondently.

"I don't understand you either," Orihime said sadly, pressing her hand against his chest. "I saw you today with that bird. You had the chance to crush it in your hands, but you didn't. You could have let Nelliel die, but you didn't. You could have raped and tortured me, but you didn't. Why?"

Ulquiorra slipped his hands into his pockets and gazed up at the night sky. Orihime sighed and continued to expel as much water from her gown as she could. The cold was becoming too much, causing her teeth to chatter.

There were still many things she did not know about her husband, but she did not harbour any resentment or dislike for him anymore. Her choices were her own and he wasn't unreasonable or forceful in any way. He wasn't a bad person and her prejudice had got in the way of truly accepting him.

"I want to get to know you, Ulquiorra. I want to understand you. I-Is that okay?" She asked, slipping her hand around his wrist.

He regarded her with scrutiny, his eyes searching deeply into hers. It was hard to keep eye contact with him when he gazed at her with so much intensity, but she managed stiffly. After a moment, he agreed with a brief nod.

"You're freezing. Let's go back home." He sighed, wrapping his coat around her dripping form.

Orihime groaned dejectedly, her efforts gone to waste. She gazed at him pleadingly and he sighed, brushing her dripping hair from her face.

"When you've been the harbinger of death for as long as I have, you learn to appreciate the sanctity of life." He said with the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Let's just call it an occupational hazard."

…

**Happy singles awareness day for before, guys! I'm really sorry this took so long.**

**Also, I would like to say a big thank you to everyone! This story has over 2k views! That is amazing. Since I can't update weekly anymore, I've provided a way to keep up with my progress on my profile if you really desire to know.**

**Please tell me what you think through a review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Into the Woods and Beyond

**Hello everyone! I'm sorry for being gone for so long, it's been a pretty wild ride since I last updated. I promise I'll try to update with more frequency now though, since I've got a decent amount of free time now.**

**Again, another big thank you to my editor, Avid, for such amazing work. It would be an absolute mess without her.**

**Oh, before I forget to mention, there is a little crass language - nothing particularly horrible.**

**...**

Orihime bounced her feet against the cold concrete steps, tapping her hands against her knees in a nonsensical beat. It was a cold morning, the fog so dense that she could barely see the end of the long winding steps in front of her.

Her tapping ceased when she noticed Nelliel plop down beside her, and her movements suddenly became robotic due to her discomfort. This was the first time she'd seen her since their fight, Nelliel settling for laying out fresh sets of clothes on her bed and leaving for training with her apprentice for the past couple of days without a word. Orihime wanted to apologize for starting the fight, but she didn't know how to go about it. She'd never had to apologise to someone before and she felt fidgety.

"Nelliel, I-"

"Was I right?" Nelliel interrupted tersely.

Orihime was at a loss for words. Nelliel continued to stare at her with analytical intensity that reminded her oddly of her husband's cold glare, and she felt momentarily caught off balance by the unexpected interrogation.

"I was, wasn't I?" Nelliel laughed, slapping Orihime hard enough on the back that she felt as if she'd fall down the steps below. "I heard from the maids that he brought you home that night and I'd assumed something had happened. Why else would you go on this trip?"

Being cooped up in the castle had made Orihime feel a little restless, and when her husband offered to take her somewhere, refusal was the last thing on her mind. Like with most things, he wasn't the easiest person to squeeze information out of, so she knew nothing about where they were going or what was happening–nor had she known that Nelliel was coming.

This was a weight off her shoulders, as she still didn't know how to spend time alone with Ulquiorra without feeling awkward and freezing up. She felt like the dynamic of their relationship had somehow shifted and she didn't know what was appropriate anymore; or if he would act differently towards her or expect anything from her.

Anticipation was welling inside of her, and she was bursting to ask what the plan of the exhibition was, although there were other matters to take care of before she could let her curiosity get the better of her.

"I'm sorry I was so mean. I've been feeling a bit off lately. Things just haven't been... easy." She said. Relief flooded through her when Nelliel smiled forgivingly and she couldn't help but bump shoulders with the girl affectionately. "Thanks for still helping me out with clothes, even though I haven't been the greatest friend."

To show her appreciation, she clapped her little red mittens together and smiled. Nelliel had provided her with a pretty light blue dress that had thick layers of cotton in the skirts, and skin-tight black cotton underlay that covered her neck and arms to her wrists and tucked into her bodice. She was given a pair of black boots that cradled her calves, lined with wool that seemed good for walking and kept her feet warm and cosy without squishing her toes. To keep her ears warm was a furry white Cossack hat and for good measure; Nelliel had provided her with a big red coat as well.

Nelliel's clothes offered a lot less coverage, making Orihime worry that she had taken her only warm clothes. She wore a loose cotton shirt that circled her shoulders with sleeves that were long enough to envelop her hands, her dainty fingers poking out the ends. The shirt was tied at the front, the loose bow bringing attention to her breasts. Instead of being tucked in, the garment hung down over her buttocks, coming a quarter down her thigh. Her legs sat covered by a pair of tight black riding pants which tucked into a shiny pair of boots that reached her knees. Despite her clothing being boyish and more for comfort than fashion, her body was too feminine to confuse with that of a man, and looked quite good on her. Regardless, Orihime felt guilty for taking her clothes.

Orihime quickly wrapped her coat around Nelliel's shoulders, but Nelliel pushed it away in protest, "It's too hot for that!"

"It's freezing out here!" Orihime countered, rubbing her shoulders.

Nelliel sighed, yanking off Orihime's mittens and squeezing her hands tightly. Orihime raised her brow and pressed Nelliel's hand against her cheek suspiciously. Her hands were the warmest she had ever felt before, and the feeling was bliss against her cheeks.

"That's amazing!" Orihime praised with surprise. "You're like a furnace."

"The weirdest part is my feet are always like ice." Nelliel said with a giggle.

Orihime clapped her hands together, accepting Nelliel's explanation and brought her attention back on the events scheduled. She was easily distracted and she knew that if she didn't take the opportunity now, she would forget later. "Did Ulquiorra tell you anything about where we're going?"

The woman scrunched her nose in thought, "The forest, but that's not really important. I have an extra special surprise at the end that I know you'll love!"

Nelliel was suddenly distracted by something up ahead, her cheeks puffed and her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress her laughter. Orihime sighed, dispirited. Although Nelliel wasn't secretive or suspicious, she rarely gave up much information when asked questions. Still, Orihime smiled warmly at the thought that Nelliel had planned something specifically for her, even before they had made up.

Giggling softly, Orihime turned to see what had so interested Nelliel. When Orihime noticed what she was looking at, she couldn't help but gape like a fish. Her expression was the last straw for Nelliel and her laughter poured out, a loud, unladylike snort followed by cackling so loud that she felt all the castle staff could hear it.

Grimmjow stood sullenly at the end of the steps, covered in so many layers that he looked as large as a laughing Buddha. Nelliel's teasing had turned his face crimson and Orihime could see that he was becoming rather volatile. This only entertained Nelliel more and her cheeks became red from laughter.

"Shut up, you fucking bitch!" He howled and crouched down awkwardly to scoop pebbles into his mitten-covered hands. He launched them towards Nelliel and the goddess, a beautiful array of tiny pebbles that hit them like little raindrops. The ineffectuality made even Orihime laugh good-humouredly.

"What's the matter? Can't you even come up here and hit me yourself?" Nelliel taunted.

Grimmjow tried to climb the steps, but his layers of clothing restricted his movement, making the task too exerting and time consuming for him to bother. His effort would also fuel Nelliel's amusement even more, which he knew, much to his chagrin. Instead he fumed down below, launching more pebbles and dirt into the air with his feet, not wanting to bother with the menial task of bending over.

Although shocked and slightly appalled by Grimmjow's crass language, Orihime couldn't help but giggle at the childishness of it all, brushing a few stray pebbles off before getting up to find Ulquiorra. Orihime always pictured him as the punctual type that would arrive at a location no early or later than intended and she wondered where he was.

She found him leaning by the doors, filtering a few stray souls into a big globe-like lantern. In the slight fog of the morning, the globe looked particularly eerie. She could see particles in the air surrounding it and it glowed, however, the luminescence was faint against the light of day. The souls within seemed more restless than any she had seen before, and flickered with black specks that filled her with repulsion.

Ulquiorra always did things with such a level of intensity and concentration that she felt guilty for interrupting him during even the simplest of tasks. When she approached him, he looked up from his globe and quirked a brow, "Are you already tired of the strange courting dance between those two?"

Orihime smiled, playing with her fingers awkwardly. She had a quick retort for this, but it was lost underneath a strange mixture of both apprehension and excitement when he spoke to her. It was as if her words were drowned out by the incessant thumping of her heart within her chest, and she was momentarily rendered too stupid to speak. Her face reddened and she dropped her head, ashamed and confused about the feelings that overwhelmed her.

Ulquiorra's keen observance skills were not needed to comprehend the turbulence of her emotions as they played across her face, plain as day. She thought that he would tease her for her juvenile infatuation, but instead he just seemed disappointed and suddenly indifferent towards her. Her heart sunk and her feelings cooled with distress.

"Try not to seem so tense around the children," He mocked tersely. "After all, isn't the functionality of our marriage your main priority now?"

Ulquiorra strode past her without any further acknowledgement. His aloofness hit her like a splash of cold water and her fondness ceased as quickly as it had sprung. Although he was handsome and appeared soft from a distance, he had a sharp tongue and a disagreeable personality in close quarters.

Orihime couldn't help but feel irritated by how difficult he was and the urge to slap him could barely be repressed, which shocked her a little. It was as if he had somehow unleashed all the passion and aggression that lay dormant inside of her during her engagement to Ichigo and life with her brother, and she didn't know how to handle such strong emotions.

She felt more herself than she had ever been, although it went against all her teachings on how she, as a revered goddess, should act. It was as if he knew this side of her that she had so carefully repressed, and he went out of his way to provoke and unbridle all that she had learned to contain.

He made her aware of her faults and inadequacies, such as her sensitive nature and her inexperience with worldly things as well as her occasional pettiness and insecurities, although she felt no need to hide or deny what she truly felt and that gave her freedom to reform what she didn't like in herself–while still accepting that she was flawed.

Regardless, he had no right to provoke her inner ugliness, especially when it wasn't to her benefit but to annoy her for his own sick amusement.

Orihime puffed her cheeks and pouted, her frazzled senses finally righted. It was foolish of her to expect him to be affectionate. Although he had the capacity for kindness, it didn't change the fact that he was naturally inclined to unpleasantness.

As she watched him walk away, she noticed him turn to look back at her, something akin to amusement in his gaze before turning to walk down the steps. Orihime waited for him to turn once more before smiling tenderly and following him in silence.

…..

Orihime peeled off her big red coat and mittens, handing them to Nelliel, who quickly folded and packed them into her travel bag. Although it was still chilly, she was so unaccustomed to exercise that her body overheated quickly.

They had travelled a decent length through the forest, the beautiful gardens and grass transitioning into brambles and bushes, between towering trees with trunks so thick she felt as if it would take both her, Nelliel, and Grimmjow to wrap their arms around them.

The foliage rustled between each step they took, some of the trees shedding their leaves for the winter and others still fully armoured in their beautiful white and grey garments. Although it was fun and satisfying to hear the crunch underfoot the first few hours, the pale leaves added hazard to their camouflaged sneaky lifted roots, making the level of the forest floor deceptive. She had tripped enough times to cover her palms with grazes and dirt, which stung so sharply they itched.

Although she was covered with bumps, bruises, and injury, the rest of the party maintained peak health without so much as a fall. Ulquiorra seemed to be able to predict every threat and stepped accordingly while Nelliel handled herself in a natural grace, as if she were a part of the forest itself. Grimmjow was the only one just as inexperienced as she, but he was so quick on his toes that it didn't affect him. He was like a big cat–too agile and poised to fall prey to injury, yet strong enough that if he did, it was unlikely to bother him regardless. And, although she didn't laugh, Orihime thought it funny to see Grimmjow's awkward, lopsided jumps through his mass of coats.

Her legs felt like jelly and she felt that if she stopped, she would never walk again. It was strange that in the course of maybe a few hours, her excitement and curiosity had completely ceased and she was left feeling nothing but weary and exhausted.

"If you continued going on those jogs like I told you to instead of exercising one day and lounging around the castle the next, you wouldn't have this problem," Nelliel scolded.

Before Orihime could formulate a response, she bumped into the solid frame of Grimmjow, who gave her a lopsided grin, his mood recovering to something more whimsical. He reminded her of a big snowman in his many coats and she smiled at him uneasily. She wanted to believe that the comical sight of him made her feel less intimidated, but his added broadness daunted her even more.

"You really are just as fragile as a doll," He said, leaning over and gripping her chin to get a better look at her face. "Pretty like one, too."

His words seemed like a compliment, although his tone said otherwise. She met his gaze with a smile and a half-hearted chuckle despite the fear that grew within her chest. His face suddenly changed from one of calculation to a sly grin.

Before Orihime could understand the look in his eye, Grimmjow gripped her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. Orihime yelped and flailed about awkwardly before accepting that it was pointless to fight and that in hindsight, it was also a blessing. It meant that she no longer needed to walk and she could finally rest and see the forest.

Nelliel supportively gripped her hand and gave it a squeeze, pressing her other hand against Grimmjow's back casually. Orihime was surprised when not just she, but Grimmjow relaxed considerably. She could feel his muscles tighten in surprise before quickly melting into a more relaxed state than before. Orihime wanted to see his face so that she could know what he felt, but she couldn't turn herself to view him.

She watched Nelliel instead, trying to understand the nature of their relationship, but nothing conclusive passed her features. She seemed her normal, jocund self and her brief but intimate touch didn't seem to mean anything to her. Orihime felt a pang of sadness for Grimmjow. If her suspicions were correct, she could almost understand why he was so aggressive towards Nelliel.

Instead of letting herself get wrapped up in the lives of others, Orihime focused on braiding her long, orange tresses in case the ends dragged in the dirt. She had never cut her hair before, and she didn't want to start because she was negligent and damaged it by dragging it through twigs and leaves. Cutting her hair meant cutting her ties from her family, and she wasn't ready to cut her connection completely from her brother. She felt that if she kept her hair the way it was, she could move on without dishonouring her memory of him.

When Orihime finished styling her hair, she took to enjoying the scenery. It made her miss her goddess realm. The whitewashed Netherworld had lost its flare to her now that she remembered the beauty of the shedding leaves in autumn. She'd loved the vast, bright amounts of colour–the red, gold and brown symphonies in the wind. She missed the cherry blossoms in spring.

A tear streaked down her face, and before she could let herself break down, she quelled her homesick thoughts with other matters. The forest was darkening the deeper they travelled within it, which unnerved her. The canopy above was thickening as the trees became larger and more ancient. She felt a strange sense of apprehension within and she could even sense restlessness in Grimmjow. His muscles tensed and she couldn't help but feel worried that a grown man so large would feel uneasy about where they were going.

"It's getting darker," She whispered worriedly. "What is this place?"

"It's just the deep woods," He played his fear off with feigned nonchalance. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over, Princess."

That did nothing to subdue the anxiety rising within her, so she looked towards Nelliel for support. When she saw her friend, relief flooded through the core of her being. Nelliel was completely calm and even smiling, humming a nonsensical tune. Finally noticing Orihime's worried gaze, she only waved casually and laughed.

After only a little more of a distance was crossed, the forest had completely any light penetrated the dense canopy above. Orihime then realized why Ulquiorra had brought the lantern. She felt annoyed that he would intentionally take her to such a frightening place, although she couldn't say it surprised her in the slightest. It was naïve of her to think that he would stop tormenting her just because she had warmed up to him.

"Ride's over." Grimmjow said disinterestedly, shrugging her off with casual gruffness**.**

Her spine hit the ground before anything else, shooting sharp pains along her back and buttocks. The back of her head hit a tree root, which rendered her disoriented and confused. She was glad that she wasn't mortal, as she believed that a lot more damage would have been done if she were.

Orihime glared at him while she rubbed her sore spots and he returned her spite with a lop-sided grin. She really felt that they could be friends, but Grimmjow was too unpredictable for her to understand.

Before he could begin taunting her, Nelliel punched him in the back of the head with all her might. He fell like a big tree, toppling over and hitting the ground hard. After a moment, he curled into a ball with his hands wrapped around the back of his neck.

"One day I'm going to fucking kill you! I'm going to tear you limb from limb and rip out your only good wing so only that fucking _deformity_ is left!" He screeched, his anger flaring at its peak.

There was a long pause as Nelliel's composure faltered. Expression after expression flashed over Nelliel's face, as if she didn't quite know how to feel at that particular moment. It was as if she couldn't decide whether to play it off, be true to herself and let herself express her hurt, or hide it with anger. Both she and Grimmjow remained frozen in their stand-off, both of them angry with each other but neither able to move nor deliver a blow.

Orihime felt a rush of anxiety as the two both glared at each other. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to help. She just wanted this situation to be resolved as quickly and peacefully as possible.

It was strange to her that so peaceful an outing could turn so ugly in barely a second, without any warning. She guessed it was natural between the two of them that violence should ensue, or that, considering Nelliel's encounter with Nnoitora during her first day in the Netherworld, that demons were just naturally vociferous.

Before she could say something that would have probably made the situation worse, Ulquiorra crouched down in front of her and blocked her view of everything but him. He observed her silently, surveying the damage dealt to her body.

His face was a welcome sight and she smiled with relief. She looked at him questioningly as he scanned her form, before realizing that he was checking to see if she was alright. It could have been the relief she felt after the adrenaline of her fretfulness–or that she was finally going mad, but she suddenly found the fact that he would rather check her himself rather than simply ask her if she was unhurt so incredibly endearing that, for a moment, she felt she truly did love him.

Her hysterical behaviour perplexed him, and she noticed confusion and amusement in his gaze. As if some silly game, she tried to tell him that she was completely fine by her body language, but her contorted expression only seemed to puzzle him further. Throwing in the towel, she mouthed 'I'm okay'.

Once he became aware of her intentions, softness played over his features and her stupid grin ceased. Orihime knew that she would never be able to make him smile or laugh–he just wasn't that type of person, but when she saw this rare tenderness, she knew that it would never matter to her.

The moment was gone as quickly as it had come, and Ulquiorra was back to his usual indifference, "We don't have time for petty squabbles, and frankly, I find them tedious. You can either tolerate or kill each other–the result doesn't matter to me."

Ulquiorra offered her his hand and Orihime took it, her eyes darting away from his as she plucked branches and leaves from her braided tresses. In her attempt to avoid eye contact with Ulquiorra, she locked eyes with Nelliel and felt a pang of despondency. Nelliel had been watching them keenly and embarrassment heated her cheeks.

"Sit and stay, boy." Nelliel taunted, rubbing Grimmjow's head into the dirt with her foot. "We'll be back in a couple of hours."

Orihime noticed shakiness in her friend's voice and she realized that Grimmjow had finally gotten to her. He had singled out the one thing that made Nelliel vulnerable and used it to hurt her. She couldn't believe that she genuinely thought that the man had feelings for Nelliel only moments prior. No one who genuinely cared about another would say something so cruel.

Grimmjow also seemed to have noticed that Nelliel was slightly off**–**centre, and he just remained passive, quietly brooding as he sat in the dirt. It was strange to see him relent and become submissive underneath Ulquiorra's domineering gaze. It was also hard to imagine that Ulquiorra, so lithe and lean, intimidated this large beast of a man.

The ashamed look on Nelliel's face had also triggered a strange maternal feeling within Orihime. It was as if she had seen that same expression before, as if in a dream or memory. The memory remained iridescent, foggy and alien to her, so she shook it off as if it were something harmful.

As they followed Ulquiorra silently into the darker part of the woods, Orihime wrapped her arms around Nelliel in a sidelong hug. She rubbed her back supportively, trying to find clues to Nelliel's mood by quiet observation. Nelliel only smiled with a little laugh, leaning in to whisper, "Do you know why he can't go this far?"

"Why is that?" Orihime asked curiously.

Nelliel was trying to reassure her in a roundabout way that she was alright with the incident with Grimmjow–she knew that much for certain–but Orihime felt that there was still something else that she was not telling her. As much as Orihime loved social interaction, people were more complex than she thought they would be. It was disturbing to know that, through the entirety of Nelliel's lifespan, she may only scratch the surface of her charm.

"If he comes into this part of the woods, the trees will suck the entirety of the miasma from his body, leaving him in a weakened, most likely fatal state." Ulquiorra stated matter-of-factly.

It was even more discouraging that, given an eternity, there was one man that she knew she would never fully understand.

"Does this place remind you of anything?" Ulquiorra asked suddenly, turning to observe her.

Orihime gaged his expression and felt a feeling of foreboding cast its shadow over her. Laughing worriedly to herself, she sought to face the creeping fear and observed her surroundings. There was nothing particularly redolent about the general sight of the place. It was just simply a deep, dark forest. She was not particularly familiar with forests before coming to the Netherworld, so she guessed that the appearance of the place was irrelevant.

There was no sound within the sea of trees, only a harsh silence that seemed to not only inspire fear within her, but also gave the place a sense of timelessness. It was as if the world around them had somehow paused and there was only nothingness.

The air was crisp and cool to breathe in, although it felt somehow putrid and claustrophobic in her body. It felt as if it were somehow synthetic; as if even air, the most natural, plentiful thing in the world, were not real or held some kind of deficiency.

Her heart thumped deeply in her chest, the silence so thick that she could hear it; her own breathing and heart thumping away. Suddenly, she was reminded of days and nights where she was left with only the dolls, humming away placidly as she sewed to fight the creeping silence.

She remembered how crazily she wished for rain each and every day so that the noise could drown out the emptiness. She remembered the artificial trees that never wilted or died, but stayed in bloom forever, as if eternally frozen in youth–just as she and everything housed within her realm were. Despite being a beautiful utopia, there was always the feeling of death grasping for her there. The house was immaculate, yet frightening. She'd felt like the dolls were watching her in the night. At times she would hear their voices in her dreams–the deep, foreboding sounds of a swarm.

"H-How...?" She murmured, wrapping her arms around her stomach tightly.

"The air here contains only trace amounts of miasma, similar to your goddess realm." He mentioned casually, as if he wasn't intentionally defiling her memories of home, but simply talking of the weather. "I thought the air would ease any reservations you have in staying here in the Netherworld."

Bitterness seized her and bile travelled up her throat. It was impossible for her to understand his motives–he was just too complex for her to understand past the tiny hints of expression that filtered through his eyes. However, whatever his intentions, she would not fall prey to his little mind games.

"I meant how can Nelliel survive this deep?" Orihime asked, clearing her throat as if to clear her mind of the terrible clarity of her previous life.

She pursed her lips and followed him closely, subtly wiping the cold sweat from her brow. There was a long silence as Ulquiorra ignored her, continuing to walk without any regard for her presence. His disappointment in her reaction gave her strength and the urge to taunt him had never been so strong. Still, she contained herself and smiled secretly, instead.

Conquering his mind games gave her confidence, and she was no longer afraid of the forest around her. She had not only won the battle, but she had won the war as well.

"I have never really been to the human world and have never sucked miasma before. I've only breathed it in and had trace amounts of it in the food. In fact, the vegetation here probably has larger amounts of it within them than I do." Nelliel said, smiling briefly.

Orihime nodded, soaking in the information. Nelliel was an irregularity in this world because her deformity kept her out of the human world. This must have been why she was so valuable to Ulquiorra–she could travel with him to places still uninhabitable to the other demons without an issue. He kept her not because of her misfortune or for sentimental value, but because she was useful.

It was harsh and a little inappropriate that he was profiting from her handicap, although his actions did lead to Nelliel's happiness... so she couldn't quite find him at any fault–she did; however, continue to judge him for his lack of empathy.

"How are you able to live without it?" Orihime asked worriedly.

"I think that the trace amounts in the Netherworld are enough to sustain me. I'm not as strong as the others, but I've lived many lifetimes without really aging much... I prefer it this way." Nelliel explained quietly, a small smile on her lips.

"I'd like to say living longer makes you wiser, but look at me: I've lived for thousands upon thousands of years and I'm still quite childish." Orihime said, playing with the folds of her dress with embarrassment.

"Someone once told me that it's not what you know or the skills that you pick up that count, but the memories that you form with the people you love." Nelliel said, smiling knowingly.

Her words seemed oddly familiar and once again, Orihime felt that same maternal feeling within her, as if that phrase was oddly familiar yet so distant and foreign that she couldn't help but reject it. It was as if she had forgotten something important and as much as she tried to grasp it, it melted away between her fingers.

She felt that the best course of action was to change the subject.

"So what's the plan?" Orihime asked curiously.

Nelliel smiled, giving her that same strangely affectionate glance before explaining, "Alright, well it's our duty to document the changes in nature, especially concerning places still uninhabitable for normal demons–"

"Nehalem." Ulquiorra deadpanned, interrupting Nelliel's explanation.

Nelliel scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue behind his back, rolling her eyes and continuing, "Especially concerning places still uninhabitable for normal Nehalem," She worded sarcastically.

Orihime blushed with embarrassment. Nelliel had taught her the wrong word for the natives of the Netherworld and she had been calling them by a derogatory term. She wondered if she had ever accidentally referred to the Nehalem as demons in front of Ulquiorra or any of the others before and felt ashamed, trying to recount every interaction since she had arrived.

"S-So you're like a scribe or a historian?" Orihime asked, trying to keep the conversation going so that she didn't seem suspicious.

"Something like that," Nelliel agreed amusedly. "Although we have lived in this world for so long, there are many things that are still a mystery to us. It's strange that we have taken this duty as our own, especially since we're the royal family; but who better to record the changes than the longest living inhabitants of this place? I'm sorry if this sort of thing bores you, I just really love this work. I'm the one that suggested that you come with us, so I'll make it up to you if you find it dull."

Orihime smiled sadly, running her fingers against the bark of a thick, ancient tree as they walked. "You have no idea how wrong you are. I've always wanted to explore and learn and discover–I was just never given the opportunity. I feel so at peace here."

Although disappointed that Ulquiorra hadn't taken her on his own volition, Orihime felt strangely at peace with a part of herself that she had suppressed for so long. She finally felt satisfied with herself and her desires outside of propriety. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she no longer felt fear of the unknown surrounding her.

She felt whole.

Eventually, they stopped to rest by a shallow pond, the light of the strange orb that Ulquiorra held reflecting off the surface of the water like the moon against a lake. As Orihime peered into the depths of the pond, she noticed something strange.

Little tadpoles swam closely to the brightness of the light, lighting up like little turquoise fireflies in the water. Orihime smiled with wonder, swishing her fingers over the surface of the pond curiously.

The swarm of tadpoles dispelled quickly, frightened by her spontaneous touch. Orihime noticed with wonder that some had grown tiny legs and were transitioning through the later stages of the transformation between tadpole and frog.

Nelliel retrieved a strange, glossy green instrument from her satchel and blew into it slowly, covering the various holes with her fingers to change the different pitches of a tune. The sound seemed to vibrate and hum through the silent sea of trees, before her call was returned by a strange flutter from the canopy above.

It was as if the forest awoke to Nelliel's song, and before long she heard the chorus of hundreds of birds within the darkness. The flock approached and swooped down onto Nelliel as if she were a druid of the forest and she were one with them, perching on her shoulders, arms and even atop her head.

Orihime gasped, advancing cautiously. She didn't want to disturb the beautiful scene with her inexperienced step. Nelliel gazed at her warmly, continuing the tune without a pause. Orihime took the opportunity to reach out to one of the beautiful, midnight coloured creatures.

It eyed her restlessly, twisting its head to and fro, before hopping slowly off Nelliel's forearm and onto Orihime's outstretched wrist. The untamed bird dug into her flesh, although she was too enraptured to notice the prickling pain.

The creature was pitch black with feathers that stretched long past its tail and wings, and an oddly curved beak that looked rounded and smooth, like obsidian. Its chest was broad and covered it soft, round feathers that felt smooth and puffy to the touch, with little tufts of fur so delicate and silky that it reminded her of an Angora rabbit's fur. Orihime moved her arm as gently as she could; turning to Ulquiorra with the biggest smile she could muster.

He moved towards her with that strange expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite describe–he was his usual stoic self, but something distinct had changed within him. It reminded her of the occasional times where she had caught him asleep, where his quiet peacefulness had removed the harsh tension in his features and nature.

Ulquiorra swung the orb closer to the bird and it made a strange hooting sound, similar to that of an owl, yet with a higher, more musical pitch. It vibrated in the depths of its chest like a gentle hum, yet came out strong and distinct. Warily, it hopped atop the globe with slight difficulty, stretching and flapping its large, beautiful wings to maintain balance against the slippery surface of the globe.

Orihime quirked her brow inquisitively as she noticed a change in the feathers of the creature. The bright glow of the orb seemed to burn away the darkness within the quills, the bird's chest erupting in a splendid gold that spread from the stem of the feathers to their soft ends.

Orihime gawked with wonder and beamed, glancing up at Ulquiorra with a little giggle. She couldn't help but smile until her cheeks pained themselves pink. No words could voice her happiness and delight, and she felt that the image of this majestic beast would be burned into her memory for eternity.

She was surprised when, instead of gazing at the beautiful sight of the bird, Ulquiorra's eyes were instead glued to her own, as if memorizing her countenance and capturing as accurately as he could her own elation. The intensity of his gaze made her heart thump powerfully, and she looked to her feet with a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Can we take it with us?" She begged him eagerly, stepping closer and gripping his arm with affection.

Her smile faded as she felt an odd sense of nostalgia; memories beginning to flicker in her mind so quickly that she could not focus on any particular one. It felt so very natural to touch him. Her body remembered something that her mind could not quite grasp, and it left her torn between her natural inclinations to love him, which her mind was still not ready to accept.

He had detected her reservations almost immediately and she dropped her head in shame. She had lectured him about opening his heart to her, although she still had personal reservations herself. She felt so confused and she had no idea how to respond to what was happening to her.

"This species has adapted to the minute levels of miasma in this forest. If we were to take it away from its habitat, it would die within days." He said, cold once more. "The feathers react to miasma and act as a kind of beacon, so that others of the species may know and absorb it as well."

The information barely soaked in, and instead she made up her mind to talk to him directly about what she was thinking and feeling. She didn't want him to misunderstand her.

"Ulquiorra...I'm starting to feel like I... Like I remember you and Nelliel. When I first came here, I noticed the way Nelliel looked at me, and I know you're not using our marriage as a political agenda." Orihime then blurted, "A-Am I going crazy?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. A look of hopelessness crossed his features and his eyes journeyed out into the distance. "You lived here with us a very long time ago. We've been married long before your engagement with that other man."

Silence followed. Even the animals silenced.

Thousands of questions poured through Orihime's mind, but none could pass through her lips. She looked to Ulquiorra for answers, but his face had already turned into stone; harsh and frightening. The silence between them was suffocating, and she felt that if she didn't say something, she would cease to breathe and faint.

"Were we happy?" Orihime blurted.

His eyes flashed with surprise and amusement, and for a second, Orihime felt that she had broken through his icy exterior and that he would smile–or even laugh–but instead he thought of what to say.

"I always assumed that emotion was an aspect of inferior sentience. We deities lose emotion usually after a thousand or so years. Humans are constantly running from death, which gives them purpose and the will to strive for more, yet we don't have that. We have only the nothingness of eternity. We have no purpose and our existence is meaningless." He said.

Orihime wanted to reject everything he said and felt saddened that he held such morbid views. She wanted to argue, but he spoke so softly that she felt that if she didn't concentrate solely on his words, she would miss something crucial.

"I was prepared to accept this theory as fact," He said, reaching out to touch her. "But then I met you."

Her heart soared and she blushed to the tips of her ears. She didn't know if he was proclaiming his love for her and implying that her existence gave him meaning, or that he were insulting her for having emotions similar to that of what he considered inferior beings, although knowing him it was probably the latter–regardless, in that moment she didn't care. She wanted to kiss him.

Before she could cover his face with kisses, Nelliel stepped over coyly, a bird still perched on her shoulder and another on her head. "Excuse me, but I've finished documenting the changes here."

"I've told her about the past." Ulquiorra stated briefly.

Before Nelliel could react, he stepped past her contemptuously and grasped for the lantern, making his way out of the dark forest with long, eager strides. Nelliel stood completely dumbfounded, before scrunching her nose up with annoyance. "He knew that the whole point of my bringing you today and planning all this stuff was to tell you, and he ruined the surprise on purpose."

Orihime laughed, "You know him better than that. He may have ruined the surprise but he told me absolutely nothing. All I know is that I'm apparently missing a lot of memories and that I've been engaged to a man while already being married."

"That's pretty harsh," Nelliel commented. "I'll fill you in on everything soon, so don't fret."

…

**The plot's pace is starting to pick up and I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts and theories everyone!**


	6. Chapter 6: Memory

**Hello everyone, it's been a while! I bring you the newest chapter of Bird Cage and hope with all my heart you will enjoy it.**

….

A silent tranquillity settled over the lake as Grimmjow rowed the little boat. Lanterns that usually bobbed so high in the Netherworldian air sank low and glowed very softly, waxing and waning between a soft white to a deeper blue. The sky reflected almost perfectly against the water's surface. If the oceanic dome above sat lower, Orihime believed that she would be able to see herself from above, down below.

It was strange. She did not know how to swim and they were so far from land at this point that surely if a problem occurred, she would perish in the midnight abyss that their boat glided through with such ease. Even then, Orihime was not afraid. She felt disconnected.

Her gaze turned to Nelliel, who smiled supportively. Even through the numbness, she felt her heart thump painfully at the sight of that gentle face. Examining her with as much care as she could manage, she tried to recognize something in Nelliel's lovely, affectionate countenance.

She noticed how youthful and round her cheeks were and speculated on what she may have looked like in the past as a child. Were her limbs as soft and pudgy as the small fragments of youth that brought a lovely plumpness to her face despite her matured body, or was she lithe and thin–softening only during adolescence? Was her hair short and curly or so long it reached her knees in long, beautiful tresses?

No matter how much Orihime tried to exhume a memory, nothing came to her. Recognition was lost and nothing remained except a strange feeling in her heart.

"You can ask me anything you think Ulquiorra won't tell you. We still have a long journey ahead of us," Nelliel supplied, somewhat nervously.

Nelliel's keen senses had noticed the disturbance inside of her with ease, and Orihime silently scolded herself for being so selfishly affected. Smiling apologetically, she considered what she should ask. Her mind always led her to pointless things that mattered naught. Her new goal was to not let herself become distracted, and to fill in as much of the emptiness in her mind as possible.

"When I first met Ulquiorra..." The princess began, "...Well, when I met Ulquiorra for the second time–he mentioned my goddess ceremony and spoke of a matter of... _necessity_ to retrieve me. Do you know anything about it, Nelliel?"

Nelliel flinched and Orihime realized that she had already touched something sensitive. She watched as Nelliel's bright hazel eyes flickered with a surfaced memory and her mouth set into a long, firm line.

"After you left, we both started looking for you. This was before I was old enough to be in control of the affairs here, so I would come along with him and try to be of assistance wherever I could. After many fruitless endeavours, Ulquiorra decided to give up–or so I'd thought." Nelliel began cautiously. "I vaguely recall him explaining that a deity ceremony was a rare and important event... that it was custom for all of the gods and goddesses to attend. At first I thought it was out of duty–him being 'Enma' and all, but the truth was that it was easier to find you with all of your people crowded in the same place."

Orihime couldn't help but smile. Ulquiorra was a shrewd and intelligent man, but fate had been somehow cruel to him. It was hundreds, maybe thousands of years before she had her ceremony and it was so incredibly rare for deities to fall into existence that there had been no other ceremonies for her to attend before her own.

It was hard to imagine finding anyone in the almost infinite stretch of the heavenly courts. He couldn't exactly ask for information knowing his reputation. Regardless of that, not many of the gods knew each other well enough to know the others' domain. Finding her was far beyond the likelihood of what humans called 'a needle in a haystack,' sadly more likely to finding a beam of light in an expanse of endless darkness.

Nelliel distracted Orihime's morbid thoughts by loudly digging through her little knapsack. In moments she produced a little black lacquered shoe, with a red strap that had been hastily repaired at the last minute. Apart from the fact that the little child's shoe looked exceedingly old, it seemed treasured and well maintained.

"I know that you don't remember anything before you woke up by the river, but this was a long time after that." Nelliel offered.

Intrigued and inspired to remember by Nelliel's excitement, she examined the shoe in her hands. Orihime's head felt strained, as if there were some sort of pressure against her temple. It pained her.

There were many walls in place that restrained the extent of her memory, and she didn't know whether _she_ had built them or if they had been built without her consent. It was rather pathetic of her to think that someone had stunted her memory as opposed to her not remembering because of her own fallacies, but the thought was comforting. As she fingered the little makeshift knot at the bottom of the shoe, a memory touched her conscience and she smiled brightly.

"You were the little girl!" Orihime said, setting it down as she cupped Nelliel's face.

The princess remembered! It came to her so easily now that she was ashamed for not realizing in sooner!

_She was the little girl with the peculiar head of turquoise hair that had fallen down by a koi fish pond. The other deities had ignored her and Orihime felt the pull of fate, as strong as her own kindness, usher her to untangle herself from the crowd and help the poor child._

_It was during her goddess ceremony and she remembered how anxious she had felt surrounded by the sea of unfamiliar yet pristine faces. Although somewhat rude of her to leave while she and Sora were to accept congratulations, she preferred to be comforting the little girl._

Tears began to cling to Nelliel's lashes and she laughed in an attempt to shake them away. "Despite the fact that you were surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to praise and congratulate you, taking care of a clumsy little girl who had fallen over was more important."

"I vaguely remember the lonely, yet affectionate look in your eyes. I'd assumed you were a small human child that had somehow crossed over into the realm of the gods, thinking it was some kind of festival, which I have heard is not as rare as you think." Orihime paused as more came to her. "That was, until Ulquiorra took my hand and helped me up, telling me that I had other duties that didn't consist of playing with other people's children. I had never been treated so rudely in my life!"

Nelliel covered her mouth with her hands and laughed, a shy expression crossing her features. "When you think about it now, he was probably teasing you–waiting for a day like today, a thousand years later, when you would understand the joke."

Orihime understood the implication immediately. Admittedly she felt strange that she had some sort of role as a motherly figure in Nelliel's life. Human women found the idea of nurturing an infant natural and for Chinese cultures in particular, it was considered their sole purpose to raise young boys to carry on the generations of their family. However, she was raised with the knowledge that she would never have children. A goddesses' life consisted in pleasing her husband and fulfilling her duties to her lore with no other purpose.

"Did you ever call me mother?" Orihime asked. Her eyebrows knotted with concern.

"No!" Nelliel answered, almost too quickly. "I always called you Orihime, just as I only call Ulquiorra by name."

Noticing that she had made things a little too tense, she let her mind drift to Ulquiorra's twisted sense of humour and she smiled. Hearing such a silly little snippet of her husband's antics made her feel braver, and she asked the question that gnawed at her heart the most.

"Am I different now than who I was before?" She asked nervously.

Without hesitation or delay, Nelliel answered with a confident, "No."

"In the beginning I don't think Ulquiorra liked you much. He was suspicious and hard with you, and to be honest... I wanted to impress him, so I was just as unkind." Nelliel said with downcast eyes. "Still, you always smiled and never gave up on us. In your eyes I always saw unwavering love and devotion which, believe me, was very alien to a Netherworldian female with a deformity. Especially one as young as I was."

"Although you say I'm no different, there are times where I have been very selfish and unkind to the both of you. I have showed nothing but ugliness since I arrived here... and I am nothing like what you just described." Orihime protested shamefully.

It was a wake-up call to truly piece together all the moments in their short time together that Nelliel had been there for her, not as an eager child gripping the skirts of her mother but as an adult woman assisting a friend. Orihime knew that Nelliel would have felt quite lonely treated as a stranger, but the understanding of how Nelliel had to be strong enough to support and take care of her while she was adapting and rebelling like a stubborn mule hurt Orihime even more.

Thinking about how painful it must have been made Orihime so distressed she had to cover her face with her hands to wipe away tears.

"I can see why Ulquiorra was so angry with me when I came back." The princess said with a depreciative laugh. "I must have hurt him a lot, too."

"Even now I can never tell what Ulquiorra is thinking unless he's either too angry to hide it or he is intentionally trying to tell me something. I'm the closest... well, _second_ closest person to him and I still know nothing about him." Nelliel gripped her Orihime's chin until their eyes met. "Still, I know that you can reach him. And you can save him."

Orihime raised her brows questioningly. "Save him from what?"

Grimmjow tapped Nelliel affectionately on the cheek and she gripped his fingers softly with surprise. As she turned to look up at him, they both flinched and looked away with redness blooming on their cheeks.

"We're here," Grimmjow grumbled.

The conversation prior had vanished from Nelliel's mind, and with a big grin she gripped Orihime's hands. "You must see this!"

Still wanting to understand Nelliel's foreboding words, Orihime felt anxious that she had missed out on important information. She wanted to steer back to the subject, but Nelliel yanked her up and, being unable to swim, Orihime panicked at the sudden rocking of the boat.

All focus was devoted to making sure that she did not accidentally fall in and drown as she stepped carefully over the little seating grooves. For support, she gripped Nelliel's hand as tightly as she could manage.

Knowing that Orihime was so nervous that she was a liability, Grimmjow stomped his way to the back of the boat to adjust the weight ratio and to maintain balance. It was probably a silly misconception on her part, but she was grateful that he still humoured her fears and allowed the illusion of space for her and Nelliel to talk about important things.

After nodding to him appreciatively, she turned to see what all the fuss was about. Before her stood a rock large enough that it could have been considered a cliff. Craning her neck to inspect it, she noticed that it was unnaturally smooth. _A monument? Is that what this is...?_ To test her theory, she pressed her hands against it cautiously.

The place her fingers made contact brightened into a soothing light blue, before dripping from her palm to form what seemed like letters of a language unfamiliar to her. Nelliel placed her hand next to hers and the same glow erupted from her palm, the letters forming more rapidly. The colour Nelliel gave to the stone reminded Orihime of a dying fire.

"These are words only you and I can trigger with our hands... We, alone in the entire Netherworld. We are as clean as the purified souls and barely any remnants of miasma are inside of us." Nelliel explained excitedly. "Regardless, this language is so ancient that no one in the Netherworld can read it, aside from Ulquiorra and I. Everyone else has long since passed away."

"What does it say?" Orihime asked, soaking in Nelliel's eagerness.

"These are the last words you said to me before you left." Nelliel said.

Nelliel's voice was suddenly tinged with so much sadness that Orihime began to tear up. She shook her sorrow away with the excuse that it was the brightness of the light, but her heart knew better.

As Orihime focused on the ancient, scratchy Netherworldian letters, it felt as though her spirit had somehow come apart from her, whispering the words into her ear:

_'Years cannot move,_  
><em>Nor death's disorienting scale,<em>  
><em>Distort those lamplit presences'<em>

Nelliel repeated the little poem and thus confirmed Orihime's suspicions. She then added wistfully, "Do you know what it means?"

"Yes, but my past self never anticipated that my own memory would fail me." Orihime sighed.

Nelliel smiled patiently and entwined her fingers with Orihime's with unconditional tenderness. "Memory never fails. It sleeps and lies dormant inside your soul, waiting for winter to end so that it may sprout and bloom and grace your mind once more."

"I find it kind of mysterious that I said something like that out of the blue. I never thought I would be so cryptic!" Orihime laughed, tracing the letters with her fingers.

Nelliel caught another silhouette of the past that made her laugh and Orihime smiled uncomfortably with bemusement. "When you said you were going away, I ran as fast as I could after you. I screamed, with snot running down my face, 'What if I die before you come back?' Heh. Wasn't I silly?"

Orihime was mortified by her own cruelty, but Nelliel only smiled. "You laughed then and said that I had many years ahead and kissed me on the nose. Then, you told me this poem and I was so preoccupied with understanding it that it took me a long time after you left to truly grieve your leaving."

"If such cruel pranks are effective ways to alleviate a child's suffering, then I have no doubt that Ulquiorra was an amazing guardian to you while I was gone." Orihime said jokingly.

Nelliel smiled tenderly. "He really was."

….

Orihime stepped through the castle with caution, a single burning candle lighting her way through the hallways. Although the interior of her new home was beautiful, with no reservations when it came to extravagance, it lacked much needed warmth and love. At night the castle appeared forlorn, as if it had weathered countless centuries of sadness. And as much as she had been through, she didn't doubt that it had.

The princess half expected to pass ghosts of long forgotten servants or workers that had died. It would be more fitting to see monarchy – previous queens and the ancestors of Ulquiorra, unsatisfied by her behaviour as his wife – but the fantasy was cut short by the fact that both he and she were immortal. There was nothing that came before them and nothing would spawn after.

Orihime shivered, her mind too wrapped in the macabre. She swore she saw a green wave of light reflect through the windows, but she disregarded it hastily. She had finally reached her bedroom and she was glad for it.

She burst in through the door and shut it hurriedly afterwards, resting her head against the door frame with a sigh. Recounting her imagined fears, she felt silly and laughed at herself before scouting the room for her husband.

He was sitting at the end of the bed, looking at her softly. It worried her that he was alone in the dark without anything to occupy his time, but Orihime knew that what appeared unhealthy behaviour to anyone else was the complete opposite to what was natural for him.

Averting her gaze, she set the candle on the mantelpiece and began peeling off her clothes with rapidity. It was the first time she had undressed while he was in the room with her and she couldn't help but feel a little heated. The cold had made her fingers clumsy and she had trouble with the many intricacies of Netherworldian attire.

A few layers sank to the floor before she hit a snag. Tying knots was a lot easier for her than untying them, and she yanked and picked at it to no avail. Before she could tear Nelliel's clothes to the point beyond repair, she was interrupted by dexterous hands already at work at her waist.

Ulquiorra's step was so quick and silent that she hadn't realized he had moved to assist her. Her heart thumped as she became so fully conscious of the warmth of his body behind her that her skin prickled with hyper-awareness.

Orihime wondered whether her body's reaction to his closeness was a symptom of their relationship prior to her memory's reach. It seemed as if her senses were lying dormant, reawakening with eagerness and excitement at his return and drinking in his attention as if it were as parched as a horse after days of travel.

"How are you?" He asked quietly.

It took her a moment to register his question. It felt so foreign to be asked such a commonplace question, especially from _him_. The way he asked held no concern, as if he were asking based on human interaction that he was attempting to mimic. How long had it been since someone had asked her that?

Layer after layer of her dress fell to the floor as he continued to work away at the intricacies of female Netherworldian attire. Orihime felt mildly jealous that he knew how to take off clothes so well–as if he had done so for other women countless times. Eventually nothing left her modest except her arms shielding her breasts.

"I didn't expect you to ask me something like that." She said cautiously after her silence.

As much as she hated to admit it, she took it as a loaded question and became weary of him in an instant. She did not know why she felt so defensive or irritated all of a sudden. It was possibly because she felt very tired and emotionally drained, but Orihime wasn't so sure.

He lifted her arms away from her chest slowly, raising them up over her head. He did so without any brutality or intention of harm, although his grasp was too strong to resist. Before she could protest or swing around to slap him, she felt the soft feeling of fabric against her wrists, falling over her head like a white veil.

The gown covered her shivering form and hung down to her ankles, her curves becoming indistinct beneath the fabric. Orihime felt safer this way, finally lowering her arms and staring intently at the floor. The candlelight made their shadows flicker, as if they were dancing.

Ulquiorra gripped her waist tenderly and rested his forehead against her neck. Orihime could not see his expression but she could feel his long, weary sigh against her skin. His breath was warm and comforting and as it fanned the nape of her neck, all hostility dissolving into fondness.

With a strange sense of familiarity, she entwined her fingers with his and guided Ulquiorra's hands around her body in an embrace. Orihime's mind wandered wearily back to his unanswered question. How _did_ she feel?

"I feel as if we're all tied into this tragedy that I don't understand. Both you and Nelliel have been suffering, while I've spent my entire life unaware of the sadness in my heart... and the pain I've inflicted onto others." She muttered, her thoughts trailing. "Ulquiorra... am I crueller than the fate we've been dealt?"

He paused. Then, quietly, he said, "If a man were to look for food for his family and the forest had perished from the elements, his family would starve. Is the man cruel for being unable to evade the inevitability of death?"

Orihime caressed his arms with the tips of her fingers to distract herself from the morbidity he proposed. Still, she listened and formulated a half-hearted answer, "It couldn't be helped."

"Well, if that man was to leave his family under the guise of finding food, but actually eats the sparse amount he could find within the forest to come back and say there was nothing, is he cruel?" Ulquiorra continued with a voice so even and soft that she held onto every word.

"Yes, he is very cruel." Orihime scrunched her nose with annoyance. "Of course that would be cruel!"

"I disagree." Ulquiorra said, his hand smoothing slowly up her back. "There is nothing wrong with fulfilling your instincts of survival. Now, if the man were to go to a forest full of abundant fruits, bamboo shoots, more pheasants to please a feast and share nothing with his family–_that_ is true cruelty."

"What is the difference between a man who puts himself first and a man who once again, puts himself first?" Orihime asked, increasingly more irritated and confused, despite the distraction of his touch as it travelled higher.

"There are many differences, although it is subjective. When someone takes pleasure in the pain of others or does not feel immediate remorse, then they are actions with cruel intentions." Ulquiorra explained patiently. "Your intentions were never cruel... and as you said, 'it couldn't be helped."

A great weight had been lifted from Orihime's shoulders, as she recognized with confidence that Ulquiorra knew her better than anyone else. His words were always honest. Not only had she learned that she did not leave because of any underlying issues, but because of things that were out of her control.

Orihime swung around and wrapped her arms around him as tight as her muscles would allow and pressed her cheek against his chest. Her eyes stung but she no longer felt the need to cry, which was strange to her since she was quite the cry-baby.

"Everything that happens is not designated by fate or a higher power, but just occurs as a great chain of possibilities that are impossible to perceive or comprehend. Events are random and existence holds no greater purpose." His voice softened so much that she could barely hear it. "Although, if we consider fate as a legible theory, I would not think that our situation was weaved as a cruel tragedy. Long, boring, and drawn out perhaps... but not cruel."

Although dispassionate and apathetic–and at times very harsh and callous with a seemingly infinite capacity for unpleasantness–everything Ulquiorra said always seemed careful and deliberate, which she loved about him. So much so, that all of his other bad traits seemed insignificant and surprisingly endearing.

It was strange to Orihime that she could love him as deeply, because she knew how much she valued morality, kindness, general goodness, and above all–hope, which she knew he had little to none of. What was even more perplexing was that she cared about him so much as he was that she did not want him to change.

Not one bit.

Yet no matter how reasonable his arguments were, it was impossible for Ulquiorra to waver her belief in fate. Logic and reason could not influence the willingness to hope and believe that nestled itself so strongly in her heart.

Orihime pulled away slowly and took to running her fingers along the furniture as she paced around the room calmly. "I asked Nelliel this as well... and she said no, but am I any different than how I used to be?" Orihime asked quietly.

"I want to begin by telling you that, unlike Nelliel, I'm by no means sentimental," he said, remaining where Orihime had left him, "When you first looked at me with such fear and repugnance in that cave, for a moment I considered tossing you back into the river. I despise seeing such an ugly expression on your face, woman." Ulquiorra said.

At this she only laughed cheerfully. "You say that you aren't sentimental, but preserving the beauty of memories when they are tarnished is quite a sentimental thing to do. Anyway, why _didn't_ you toss me aside?"

"I enjoyed your disdain just as much as your normal expressions," he said simply, "I found it fascinating."

Orihime tried to smile but felt dissatisfied. Ulquiorra had evaded the question, meaning that she was incomparable to her past self and had disappointed him. Whether she fascinated him or not did not matter, since she was only a shadow of someone he'd loved.

Returning to the question at hand, her husband cupped her face as she trembled silently. He was so fast, she hadn't seen him move. "There is no reason to torture yourself feeling jealous of your own past, you foolish woman. There are no differences because you _are_ the same. Your mind and experiences may be fallow, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"I know that it's stupid and pathetic, but I can't help feeling upset," She whispered brokenly, lowering her chin.

Suddenly, he yanked her wrist and Orihime toppled onto the bed, gasping as her body fell against it. Without hesitation, Ulquiorra blocked any escape with his arms on either side of her.

"Pessimism is merely a temporary state of mind..." His eyes burned into hers, and she couldn't look away. "...Easily negated with... _distraction_." Ulquiorra said with his almost unnoticeable inclination of amusement.

His face came close to hers and, paralysed in shock, Orihime couldn't move. Her eyes, still wide open, blurred in their vision and became dark. Something brushed against her neck. Her breath hitched as he nipped a sensitive spot on the nape of her neck. The pain was sharp at first, but once he ran his tongue decadently over the hot flesh, the pleasure felt so sweet her toes curled.

As he continued his exploration, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed that he had seemed to know what areas on her body gave her the most fulfilment. She assumed that he was a more experienced explorer of her body than even she, since they had probably shared many marital moments that surpassed the confines of her memory.

Slipping the sleeves of her gown down her shoulders with his cool caress brought goose bumps to Orihime's skin, and as the fabric slipped past her torso to expose her, she immediately recoiled and curled up on her side.

She covered her face with embarrassment. "My chest is too big... it looks ugly, doesn't it? I'm sorry... I wish they were smaller."

"In what way are they ugly?" Ulquiorra asked, clearly amused.

"My books taught me that large breasts are for wet nurses and they eventually droop and hang with age. Even my teachers told me that men have no like for large breasts." Orihime said with mortification.

Ulquiorra supported himself on his elbows and hummed. As she watched him through the cracks of her fingers, he seemed perfectly content with being nestled between her legs while gazing over her body.

Orihime didn't quite know what to make of this, seeing as they had reached an impasse in their intimate endeavours. She knew that they had both reached a stage in their relationship that could not regress back to innocence and tasteful interaction, and she had no desire to. More than anything she wanted to continue, but her discomfort and shyness prevented any catharsis.

"Wh-What is it?" Orihime stammered, mortification intensifying in his silence.

"I find you attractive," Her husband said simply. "I feel it is somehow needless to mention, but you will never age nor have an infant at your breast."

It was not much of a compliment, but coming from Ulquiorra, she smiled with appreciation. The hardest part was finding a way to calm her skittishness. Reason enlightened her of the fact that Ulquiorra did not find her body unsatisfactory, and to quite the contrary, he seemed to take more of an interest in her physically than anything else. It was not her fragile image that made her so scared of being intimate, but the small part of her that feared failing to please him. Or even worse, the possibility that she would dislike it.

Putting his weight back onto his hands, he slid up and sat cross legged beside her. She missed the warmth of his body against hers immediately and suddenly felt terribly cold.

"Sit on my lap." He said, voice commanding.

Orihime slowly rolled to face him as he began pulling his top over his shoulders and threw it aside. His skin was so pearly white that she couldn't find it in herself to look away. He was just so beautiful.

Crawling towards him, suddenly without fear, she straddled his lap and looked up at him expectantly. It felt oddly natural and familiar to sit like that with him, just simply facing each other. Reaching up to press her hand against his cheek, she leaned closer and kissed him.

As their lips met she felt an urgency overcome her, and what began as soft and slow became desperate and yearning. With no understanding as to why, tears began to pool in her lashes and drip down her cheeks. It was as if many long years of sadness had finally seeped out and, despite the fact that it was an especially inappropriate time to cry, she felt healed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trembling once again, "I just feel... overwhelmed right now." Orihime sobbed. She was angry at herself for not being in the emotional state to continue.

It was as if everything had come to a close at once. The life she once had was truly over now and–despite feeling relief;–to Orihime endings were always sad. To add to that, her feelings of empathy for her husband pricked her so harshly that she could only react with tears. Ulquiorra was always so stony and brooding that not much crossed over his face.

But, being so close to him, she could now feel the loneliness and despair that _he_ had felt during her absence, and yet his face always remained vacant.

She had received him with so much hatred and loathing simply from the prejudice that he was Enma, when she knew more than anyone else that the role of a deity is never decided by the individual, or characterized by personality or actions, but predetermined. And despite her resentment, he never failed to put her first. He took care of her. He did not complain when she did not submit, nor did he force himself upon her despite his rights as her husband. He treated her like a... _loved one._

"I feel like the moment I met you at the river was the first day of my life," Orihime muttered, breaking away from him slowly. "It was as if all the years before that, I was just incapable of feeling. I was asleep. After I met you a lot of strange, exciting things happened and I felt a lot of sadness, but my heart never stopped beating. I guess because I've finally experienced the outside world for myself, I could finally begin feeling truly happy."

In the dim candlelight she could see the hardness of his countenance melt away like wax. For a moment, it seemed as if she had somehow rendered him off-centre, like he didn't quite know how to react to her words. Ulquiorra's lips parted but no words came out.

"I guess I'm not very eloquent, but what I'm trying to say is that I... I think I... I love you, Ulquiorra." Orihime said with a smile.

Ulquiorra said nothing, instead looking at her quizzically. Orihime realized with a sadness that tinged her heart each time it thumped, that no matter how many years they spent together, and no matter how much closer she came to having him completely, the simple three words that weighed heavily with so much happiness were such an obstacle for him to acknowledge and verbally reciprocate that it perplexed him.

Perhaps it was conditioning after spending centuries reviled from having the most morbid role of the deities. Not only did humans fear and loathe the idea of death, but the gods themselves found it just as distasteful. The harsh isolation had left him unresponsive, which in hindsight was a blessing to ward off the insanity and loneliness of constant rejection, but the thick shell was no longer needed anymore.

Still, Ulquiorra reached out and tried his best to find some way to express his feelings even though his face was bleak. He pressed his hand against her chest and rubbed his forehead against her own. At first she didn't understand and mirrored his actions, realization only dawning when she felt his heartbeat against her palm.

Despite his outward nature his heart beat just as rapidly as hers.

Orihime now knew that they would somehow always be connected by the hearts they held in the palm of their hands, and her pain ceased completely.

…..

**The little poem on the rock was an extract of my most favourite poem in the world, 'The Violets', by Gwen Harwood. I love that poem with all my heart, and I found it was oddly appropriate for this story.**

**Anyway, I would like to say that my editor, Avid, helped me more than you could believe with this chapter. I told her that I was having a lot of trouble and she swooped in and fixed all that I was insecure about, she is an absolute treasure and I wouldn't be able to write this story without her.**

**I know that it has been a very long time since I updated – which is why this author note is especially long, but thank you for sticking by me and your reviews motivate and fuel me to write faster. I love them, so please keep writing them.**

**Anyway, we are barely even close to a quarter through this story. Till next time, (which should be very soon!)**

**-Lorelailui**


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